


Not Again

by crime_to_kill_a_mockingbird



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Attempted Murder, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friendship/Love, Graphic Description of Corpses, Jealous Petyr, Loss, Love Confessions, Sexual Violence, Slow Burn, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2020-09-06 01:54:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 39,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20283466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crime_to_kill_a_mockingbird/pseuds/crime_to_kill_a_mockingbird
Summary: He let her walk out of his life once.When she calls him late at night, distraught and in need of his help, he looks at it as a way back into her life. A second chance to get everything he's ever wanted, but the ring on her finger speaks for itself and he's forced to try and win her over like he had done the first time... Except now he has competition with a man that's already so many steps a head of him.That damn ring.





	1. Adjournment

"Then why the hell is _ 'Big Titts Brielle' _and _ 'The Redhead with the Tight Ass' _texting you!?" She screamed, enraged, as she threw the offending device at his face. It missed, hitting the top of his chest and crashing to the floor.

"And did I answer them!?" He threw back, ignoring the shattered screen of his cell phone that now lay at his feet. He stepped over it, approaching her like she was his prey, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched as a predator would.

"Why do they have your number, Petyr?" She snapped back, frowning. "And _ god _, you're such a sleazy, typical guy naming them that."

He sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. "Sansa, I _ was _ with other people before you, you know." He shot back, frustrated with all these stupid fights. "You know I'm not the dating type, so yeah… I slept around a bit. Do I need to remind you how _ we _ got together?"

He didn't, of course she remembered. She'd been feeling bad about herself after Joffrey and remembered her old friend Margaery, whom she use to go partying with, spoke of this guy she had a one nighter with who was _ amazing. _ She asked for his number and voila.

"Oh, you _ aren't _the dating type. Right, so the last six months of fancy dinners and picnics and me practically living here was just… you getting into my pants?" She stepped closer with each word, volume increasing as she did so.

His eyes flashed. "Sansa, jesus," he sighed, gritting his teeth in frustration. "Of course _ we _ are different. I just meant _ before _, the only time I spent with women was for a quick fuck. So of course I had a few numbers."

"Right, so did you ever plan on deleting these numbers, Petyr? Or were you just using them as backups in case we break up? Or in case you get bored." She spat back, eyes cold. He clenched his jaw tightly, glaring at her.

"So that's what you think? That I'll get bored and cheat on you?" He replied, chest almost heaving in anger.

"What am I supposed to think after seeing those messages?" She countered, pointing to the spider-webbed cell phone.

"What are you doing looking through my phone, anyways?" He asked and she fumed.

"I was looking for that picture of us in front of the Louvre from last month and a text message from one of your girls popped up." She defended herself, hands on her hips. His lips curled.

"They aren't my _ girls _ , Sansa. _ You _are my girl. They were quick flings I had before we met to blow off steam." He said in return and she huffed when he referred to her as _ his girl. _

"And when, may I ask, did you stop seeing these women? Because if I remember correctly, there was never a time when we really made things official… Our fast fucks just turned into dates and then we started celebrating holidays. So _ when was it, Petyr!? _When did you stop answering their calls?" He paused when she asked this, his angry expression dropping slightly. _ So he was with them when he was with her. _

"I…" He bit down on his bottom lip. She grabbed the closest object, a picture frame (ironically with a photograph of them in it: Petyr biting her earlobe as she giggled and nudged him away), and threw it at him. He had to dodge this one from striking his face and it too, shattered when it hit the ground. She stared at it for a second longer, seeing a thick crack separate the two of them. "_Sansa _ ," her eyes snapped back up to his. She saw _ red. _ "At first I didn't think it would amount to anything, because like I said, I wasn't the dating type, but as soon as we started seeing each other more often, I didn't answer anymore of those messages." He said, licking his lips and stepping closer cautiously, as if she'd run if he approached too quickly or aggressively.

"How am I supposed to believe you? You were fucking other women when you were fucking me." She stated, crossing her arms. He groaned in frustration, rolling his eyes.

"_We didn't have a relationship at the beginning! _ All we _ were _ doing was fucking, Sansa. It's not my fault you were under the impression you were my only fuck buddy." _ Big mistake _, he realized that right away. Her expression shifted, she was angry, _yes_, but now she was hurt too. Her arms fell to her sides and she deflated, looking exhausted. He opened his mouth to heal the wounds he had just opened with his words.

"I'm so tired of all this. Of us." She blurted out, voice lacking emotion. He started, suddenly realizing the critical state of their relationship in her eyes. "I can't be with someone who has _ backup _ girls."

He rubbed the ridge of his nose with his index and thumb, feeling the aching headache coming on. "For the _ love of god!" _He yelled. "If you hadn't of broken my phone I'd delete them right now!" He stepped closer to her, sighing and closing his eyes to try and relieve some anger. "Sansa," his voice was softer and he reached his arm out to touch her arm but the second his fingers grazed her skin, she recoiled as if he'd burnt her. He frowned, hurt by her rejection. "This is stupid. I don't want anyone but you."

"So now I'm being stupid?" She asked and he took a step back, as if she'd struck him.

"Really, Sansa? Does this have to be a fight?" He asked, biting down so hard on his lip that he tasted blood: a strong metallic that filled his mouth. She scoffed. "Can't you act like an adult for one second!?"

"Now I'm not mature enough for you? Gee you sure are hard to please, Petyr." She paused, her next words coming out slow and meticulous, meant to cause pain. "It's not my fault you're dating someone fifteen years younger than you."

He took a few more steps back, leaning against the foot of the bed. He rubbed a hand down the side of his face. "I don't want to fight anymore, Sansa, please."

"Well maybe I don't want to do this at all anymore."

His lips parted in surprise, he felt his heart stop in his chest. "What?" Was the only word he could form. He felt stupid saying it.

"If you can't even give up your bachelor life for me, I don't want to be a part of it at all. You've proven to me what's really important." Then she turned on her heel and strode from the room, approaching the front door.

The ring was the first thing that popped into his mind. If he gave it to her now, she'd know how much he loved her. She wouldn't leave then, surely? But what if she did? What if she refused the ring and his love and left him broken hearted? Even if she didn't… he wanted that moment to be special and this was far from it. This would taint it.

So he stood there instead, like an idiot, with his hands balled into fists and his heart aching the closer she got to the door. She wouldn't leave him forever, surely? They were perfect for each other.

"Sansa!" He called as her hand reached for the doorknob. She turned to him, eyes expectant and full of flames. "If you walk out that door, don't come back." He figured that would be enough to get her to come back and just sort this the fuck out, but he was sorely mistaken.

She looked to the ground, hesitated for a split second before pulling open the door and slamming it shut behind her. The oxygen left his chest in one fell swoop. He felt like he'd been punched in the gut. He was going to throw up. He ran to the attached bathroom and heaved for several minutes, surprised when he finally stopped that tears were streaming down his cheeks. He groaned loudly, or cried out, he wasn't sure which one it was… probably the ladder if he was being honest with himself.

He didn't see or hear from her again.

Not for three years, at least.

* * *

He rubbed at his temples as he leaned back in his leather chair, breathing out a sigh. One meeting left before he could retire for the night with a glass of scotch.

He was a defense attorney, dealing with murder cases mostly, but also some sexual abuse and near-deaths. He'd heard some interesting stories in his time as a lawyer.

He opened his newest case and started making notes before his phone buzzed. _ Myranda, _ again. He'd been seeing her for a couple months… nothing serious, but she did stay over a lot and he hadn't taken her out yet but they had ordered take out a few times. He wouldn't call her a girlfriend but he had a funny feeling that she would. He really didn't like the girl that much as a person, all she did was ramble on about her life after sex and it always soured his orgasm. However, Petyr unfortunately has been way too busy with work to go find someone else to blow off steam with so alas, Myranda it is.

_ Myranda: When will you be home tonight? _

He cringed.

_ Petyr: Late. You should go home. _

He did _ not_ want her to start referring to his house as _ home. _ He sighed, annoyed at himself for getting involved with women who always expect more.

He thought of Sansa, then. And that damn ring. He'd kept it after all this time in his nightstand drawer beside some old pictures and a pack of cigarettes and condoms. He should really keep the condoms somewhere else; every time he reached for one he was instantly reminded of _ her. _

His office phone rang and he reached for it. "Petyr Baelish." He answered, voice monotone.

"Pete… P-P…" The voice on the other end, a woman's, was hesitant and the poor dove sounded terrified. People never called him like this.

He frowned and straightened his back. "Yes, who am I speaking to?" He asked slowly. He could hear the girl's shaky breathing on the other end of the phone.

"I- Petyr- It's…" She said his name clearer this time and it sounded familiar on her tongue. He recognized the voice.

"Sansa?" He breathed in disbelief, then worry. "Sansa what's wrong?"

She started crying then. His heart ached at the sound. It wasn't the sort of cries he'd ever heard from her before. She was horrified.

"I need your help." She managed to choke out.

He was out the door in seconds as soon as she told him her location. An alley beside the subway. It was dark, not surprisingly considering the time: _ 9:26 pm. _

Every slow asshole on the road would normally piss Petyr off to begin with, but knowing his girl was in danger and alone and the prick in a honda in front of him was on his breaks the whole way made Petyr furious. He honked like an obnoxious dick and flipped the fucker off, telling him to _ drive his fucking car _, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel.

He parked on the road and rushed from the car, running down the alley towards the dark figure at the end, who had her arms wrapped around herself.

As he got closer he noticed the body bleeding out beside her feet. The man's belt was unbuckled and red hot anger shot through Petyr at the assumptions running through his head at the sight. His eyes were adjusting to the dark and he soon saw her face. Her hair was dyed dark brown but it was her. There was blood all over her clothes and hands and a little splatter on her face.

"Sansa…" He breathed, surprised that he was actually, after all this time, seeing her again. And also, of course, surprised with the predicament he now found himself in.

She let out a sob when she met his eyes and to his surprise, she ran to him and her arms wrapped around his neck. Great. Now _ he _was covered in this man's blood, too. Though he couldn't find it in himself to care… not even if his most expensive suit was now ruined.

He gingerly wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. It seemed like a terrible time to think this, but Petyr couldn't stop wondering if this was his chance to finally get her back, the love of his life. He knew why she called him… He dealt with murder and sexual harrassment cases every day. He knew the laws and how to deal with this properly. Also, he hoped this had some influence on her decision to call him: he was familiar and she could trust him.

"_Shh, _love. Breath. It's going to be okay. We're going to fix this." He hushed in her ear, stroking her hair affectionately. Luckily he knew exactly how to calm her down and it was seconds later that she was sniffling and pulling away. "Okay," he started, voice business-like. "Tell me what happened." His hands remained on the sides of her arms comfortingly.

She opened her mouth to speak but couldn't seem to get the story out. "I-I…"

"All you need to tell me is if it was self defense or not. Can I call the cops or should I take care of this myself?" He clarified and she sighed in relief, clearly grateful for him.

"Self defense." She muttered quietly. He nodded, removing his hands from her arms and pulling out his phone to dial 911.

"Hello, yes. I'm in an alleyway right beside the subway on the corner of… third and second." He told the person on the other end of the line. "A woman was attacked." Sansa listened quietly to the conversation. "She's… shaken up, but physically okay I think. He is…" He bent down to feel the man's pulse, cringing when blood coated his fingers. Jesus, what did she _ do _? He wanted to smile proudly at the damage she caused. "He's alive but barely. Yes, alright. Thank you." He hung up and turned to her, wiping the blood off his hand with his suit jacket. "They'll want a statement from the both of us. Just tell them the truth, but leave out the part of you calling me... I'm going to say I was only a few blocks away."

Sansa nodded, still hugging herself tightly. Petyr looked down at the body again and that's when he noticed the weapon lodged deep in his gut. It was a small dagger he had given her when they were together because she always _ walked around by herself. _ It's a good thing he gave it to her all those years ago.

"Is there someone you want me to call?" He asked, _ praying _ she'd say no. He knew her family lived in Winterfell, nowhere near Kings Landing, so if she said yes it was either a friend or boyfriend.

"Uhm… no. Harry's on a trip." She replied and his jaw clenched. _ Harry. _ So she is spoken for. Well, things could change.

"Can I drive you somewhere? After we talk to the cops, I mean." He asked gently, taking a small, cautious step forward. She swallowed thickly.

"Yes, if… if you could." She replied and he nodded.

"Of course, sweetling." Her eyes shot up when he called her by her old nickname. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly as they stared at each other. He missed those azure blue eyes.

They both turned their attention to the sound of the sirens as ambulances and cop cars stopped on the side of the street. Paramedics rushed to the man and started dealing with him as a police officer took Sansa away from him to talk alone. Someone else spoke with him. It all went smoothly and soon enough, Petyr found himself leading her towards his car.

He helped her in before going around to his side. "Where do you want me to take you?" He asked and she crossed her legs tightly together. He wondered if that man succeeded and actually abused her or not. Gods he hoped not.

She shrugged. "I don't know…" She trailed off and he sighed, wishing he could help her more than he felt she was ready for right now. He wanted to hold her. "I-I just don't want to be alone."

He tried not to smile. He started driving instead. She didn't ask where he was taking her… she knew the way to his house by now. When they arrived he walked around the car to help her out and then he walked slowly beside her and unlocked his door.

When he opened it, his dog went crazy. An Irish retriever. He jumped up on Sansa and Petyr immediately scolded her, pushing her off. Sansa smiled weakly. "You got a dog." She always loved dogs, especially the bigger ones.

"Yeah… needed the company. Her name's Cas." He told her, pushing the dog into the living room so Sansa could remove her shoes.

"She's sweet." Was her response as she entered the living room too. "I...I'm really sorry about the mess." She said as she looked down at the blood staining his shirt. He shrugged.

"Don't worry about it. Would you like to change?" He asked, finally settling Cas down. Sansa nodded.

"I'd like to shower too, if that's alright?" She asked and he felt his throat go tight.

"Yeah of course." Sansa would be naked in his bathroom, just on the other side of the wall. "I believe you know where it is." He added cheekily, but she ignored his comment and left the room. He gave Cas a little cuddle, _ "we love her." _He whispered as he scratched her ears. She licked his nose.

He went into his room, where Sansa was opening the cabinets beside the door to his attached bathroom to grab a towel. He opened his closet and grabbed a v-neck white shirt for her and a black one for him. He found a pair of sweats that thankfully had a drawstring that she could pull to fit in… she use to wear these pants all the time.

He walked over to her as she turned to him and he wordlessly handed her the clothing. He saw a hint of a smile on her lips when she noticed the pants. She nodded her thanks and he turned around, shrugging the jacket from his shoulders and then unbuttoning the dress shirt before pulling that off too. When he turned back around, she was still staring at him. He raised his eyebrows in surprise and she looked down at the ground to blush. She tucked the clothing under her arm and raised her hands to the top of her blouse to unbutton it, but her hands were shaking. It became clear to him that showing her struggle was her way of asking him for help.

He walked over to her and moved her hands aside and slowly began to unbutton it himself, trying to maintain his composure… especially when her black lace bra started to show. When the shirt was open, he looked back up at her and frowned at the droplets of blood staining her beautiful porcelain skin. He reached up and used the pad of his thumb to rub away the blood spots. She couldn't meet his eyes.

He looked down, too, and noticed the watch around her wrist and reached for it, undoing that as well. That's when he saw it: the engagement ring. He hesitated, staring at it as he felt his heart sink. "Lucky Harry." He commented dully as he finished with the watch. The ring he had hiding away was more beautiful and far more expensive… but it wasn't on her finger and that's where Harry won.

She ignored that comment too and quietly thanked him before walking into the bathroom and closing the door. It took him several long moments to regain control over his emotions. He changed and left to make her a lemon tea. He still, after all this time, had a few bags left. She came out, hair still wet, just as he finished stirring a spoonful of honey into the mug.

"Oh, thank you, Petyr." She said as he handed it to her. She took a sip, closing her eyes briefly and sighing in content. He savored the sight.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" He asked gently and she pursed her lips in thought before heading over to the couch. They both sat down.

"I was walking home from work…" She started.

"-by yourself." He added pointedly and she rolled her eyes, though she seemed more amused than annoyed.

"And this guy… he'd been making inappropriate comments about me for the last week at my work, and he followed me. When I noticed him, he attacked. He, uhm, he tried to-" She looked down, almost in shame but mostly embarrassment.

"Rape you." He finished for her and she winced at the word but nodded.

"But he didn't get to, I found that dagger in my purse and just-" Her eyes went wide as the earlier events flashed before her eyes. She squeezed the mug tightly. "I hope he isn't dead."

"I hope he is." Petyr replied, eyes dark and rageful. She looked back up at him. "But I don't want you to have that on your conscious. And… if he isn't, _ I _ can be your attorney and we can sue his ass off. We can take everything."

Sansa smiled a little, but it was dark. "I'd like that." And the gods knew he just fell in love with her all over again.

"So tell me about this _ Harry _." He offered as a change of subject. Sansa looked down at the mug and sipped at it again.

"We met last year. He's a mechanic. He proposed last month." She told him and he tilted his head to the side to analyze her.

"And you're happy." He half asked, half stated.

"And I'm happy." She confirmed, though she didn't seem to be.

"Why didn't you call _ him _?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow upwards. She sighed, placing the mug aside.

"I knew he was away. And I knew you'd take care of it properly." She replied and he breathed in deeply through his nose.

"Take care of _ you _, you mean?" He pushed, hoping he could make some kind of lea way with her tonight. She shifted uncomfortably and he immediately regretted what he had said.

"I'm sorry I called you. I shouldn't have." She stated and he frowned slightly. "And I shouldn't have let you bring me here."

"Sansa-" He started, shaking his head.

"I love him, Petyr. I want to make that clear." She said sternly and he looked down at his hands, clenching his jaw.

"But it was _ me _ you needed in your darkest moment." He pointed out, looking back up at her. She looked away.

"Please don't, Petyr." She said, exasperated. He sighed.

"I'm sorry. I just…" He twisted his mouth awkwardly and shook his head. "You're right, I shouldn't have said that. You love him." He paused. "Just know that I'm always here for you."

She looked up and nodded quickly, as if desperately wanting to change topics and his heart ached at her reaction. "Are you seeing anyone?"

Petyr chuckled, shaking his head. As if on cue, his phone started ringing. He sighed and looked down, _ Myranda, _ of course.

"One of your girls?" Sansa asked slyly and he rolled his eyes, answering the phone.

_ "Hey Pete, are you home yet? I can't sleep and I want to fuck." _

"Still at the office, sorry. Another time perhaps." He replied curtly as Sansa sipped at the tea.

_ "Why do you keep blowing me off all of a sudden? If you think you can break up with me this way, you have another thing coming!" _

"Myranda, we aren't even dating. What are you talking about breaking up?" Sansa seemed thoroughly amused with the conversation.

_ "Are you with someone right now!? Is that why you're saying these things?" _

Petyr groaned in annoyance. "_ Yes _ as a matter of fact. I am, and I'd like to get back to her if you _ don't _mind." Sansa rolled her eyes, clearly not pleased.

_ "Oh so that's how it is!? I bet she's a blond mindless twit that you'll only spend a single night on because she won't even suck good enough for you." _

Petyr just about burst out laughing. Sansa _ definitely _ knew how to suck. He had taught her. "Red head, actually." _ At heart, anyways. _"And she's gorgeous, and I can vouch for her perfect little mouth any day."

Sansa scoffed, reaching over to smack his chest, whispering _ leave me out of it! _

_ "You're disgusting. Don't come crying to me when you get tired of her." _

"Goodbye Myranda." He hung up.

"You're an asshole." Sansa told him when he hung up the phone. He smirked.

"She's _ obsessive, _ I'm not actually that cruel to everyone, sweetling." He replied, raising his hands in mock surrender.

"Don't call me that." She snapped and his eyebrows rose in surprise.

"Oh, and whys that?" He asked, slightly offended. He didn't think he could stop if he wanted to. It was instinct now.

"Because I haven't been your_ sweetling _ for three years and if my fiance hears the name, I'll have to suffer the consequences." She replied sternly. "Speaking of, I should probably call him."

She tapped at her phone before pressing it to her ear. Petyr knew he wouldn't want to hear this conversation but he couldn't find the strength to leave her alone as of the present moment.

"Hi sweetheart." She greeted and Petyr felt bile rise in his throat. Her phone was turned up loud enough for him to hear the man's replies.

"Hey babe."

Sansa's eyes flickered up to Petyr's, seemingly hoping he hadn't heard the nickname. _ 'Babe'? _Petyr mouthed back mockingly and she rolled her eyes.

"Something's happened." Sansa started. "I was attacked by someone on my way home and… I ended up stabbing him."

"What!? With what?" He asked and Petyr couldn't help but think _ does that really matter? _

"That dagger you found-"

"The one I told you to get rid of? Sansa women shouldn't carry around weapons. Can you imagine what people will think of you?"

Petyr was astounded. _ Was this guy being real right now? _Sansa didn't seem pleased either, though she did seem less surprised.

"I know, I lied to you. But where would I be right now if I didn't?" She defended herself. _ So she kept the dagger against her fiance's wishes. Was it purely for survival tactics… or did it have something to do with the fact that he gave it to her? _

"Well, I'm glad to know you're alright. Do you need me to come home early?" He asked and Petyr couldn't help but laugh. Sansa sent him a fierce glare and his mouth shut immediately. _ The guy couldn't even put his trip on pause for her? _It didn't matter where he was or what he was doing. He should be buying a ticket home as they speak. "Is someone there with you?"

Sansa sighed, clearly frustrated that Petyr made himself presently known to Harry. "Yeah, an old friend. He's an attorney."

_ "He?" _ He repeated. "I didn't know you had an attorney friend. Where are you?"

"At his office." She replied immediately and Petyr cocked a questioning eyebrow. "He's taking me home soon." She added.

"Oh… okay." Harry said dully. "Well, look, the guys keep bothering me to drink with them so I'll call you tomorrow, yeah?"

Petyr gritted his teeth and Sansa looked disappointed. "Okay, goodnight. I love you." Those words made Petyr dig his nails into the palms of his hands.

"Love you too, babe." She hung up the phone and sighed again, heavily. 

"Charming." Petyr couldn't help himself. Sansa scoffed.

"Enough, Petyr." She said sternly, running her fingers through her hair. His eyes followed the action. "At least he's 100% committed in our relationship."

He ignored the jab. "Why'd you get rid of the red?" He asked curiously, a question that had been irritating him since he set his eyes on her. He was missing the dark auburn locks that shone brightly in the morning light after he'd fucked her into oblivion the night prior.

At the mention of it, she absentmindedly twirled a curl of the dark brown through her thumb and index fingers. "Wanted to try something different last year and Harry liked it more than the red, so I just kept it."

"I'm really questioning that man's taste." Petyr replied and Sansa smirked playfully.

"He likes me, doesn't he?" She countered and the remark brought a smirk to his lips as well. He rolled his eyes in amusement.

"I miss the auburn." He told her and something real, seemingly painful, flashed in her eyes at the comment.

"So do I, sometimes." She replied quietly, voice barely above a whisper. The way her eyes held his made him feel like perhaps she was talking about more than her natural hair colour. His heart started pounding against his chest. "If you don't mind… I'm rather tired." She said, breaking the spell.

Petyr swallowed thickly and nodded. "Of course." He stood, leading her into his bedroom where he went to the wardrobe and retrieved some blankets and a pillow. "I'll sleep outside." Petyr told her but she shook her head.

"No, no that's alright… really." She started to protest but he waved it off.

"Sansa, I'm not letting you sleep on the couch." He said sternly and she shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. "What is it?" He asked curiously.

She looked a little embarrassed. "I don't really want to sleep somewhere that other girls have." She admitted and Petyr grimaced a little.

"I did the laundry yesterday." He shrugged. "If that helps." He paused, smirking slightly to try and break the tension. "Besides, I don't usually have sex in bed."

Her eyes narrowed slightly. He knew what she was thinking. _ We did. _

_ 'Well,' _ he thought, _ 'that's because I actually loved you and wanted it to be special.' _ He certainly liked fucking Sansa... but making love was something he'd only ever experienced with _ her. _ He loved the connection and the love that he felt during it. He missed that.

"Well, thank you." She said, bringing him back from his thoughts. He nodded and left, breathing in deeply when he was finally away from her. He's so fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adjournment: Postponement of a court hearing to another date.


	2. Animosity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello loves!
> 
> Here's another chapter! P.S this story is going to be painful to write because slow burns drive me crazy.
> 
> Enjoy :)

_ A few years earlier _

_ "What is it?" She asked, eyeing the object in Petyr's hand with skepticism. _

_ He flicked his wrist, inevitably making the knife fold out and lock in place. Her eyes widened. She shook her head in disapproval. “No Petyr, we’ve talked about this.” _

_ “No.” Petyr started. “ _ You _ talked and I pretended to listen as I was trying to figure out in my head where this was.” He said teasingly, referring to the knife in question. _

_ She rolled her eyes in annoyance but he could see the hidden amusement there as well. “Look,” he pressed the knife handle into her hand, expression serious. “If you insist on walking either here,” he gestured to his place. “Or to your place, in the dark by yourself… you are at least taking this with you.” She opened her mouth to protest but he cut her off before she could start. _ “Please _ , Sansa, even if it’s just to ease my mind. I’d feel a lot better knowing you have something to protect yourself with if need be.” _

_ She hesitated but he could see the defeat in her eyes, seemingly understanding where his worry was coming from and deciding to do this for him. She nodded, sighing deeply. “Thank you.” He said. “Now, here, let me show you how to use it.” _

* * *

He was jolted from his restless sleep to the sound of crying and whining. At first he thought she was simply not conscious of the fact that she was crying so loudly, but then he started to realize that she simply wasn’t conscious. He untangled himself from the wool blanket he had wrapped around his body, and swung his legs around the side of the couch, listening.

Her abrupt scream made his feet move without hesitation. He swung open his bedroom door and immediately found himself at her side. She was breathing heavily, chest heaving as if scared of something. Her eyes closed tightly. She shook her head frantically in her sleep. “No! NO! Get off.”

He sighed in despair. It hurt him to see her suffer from the trauma that she endured this evening. He made to reach for her when she mumbled something that gave him pause. 

_ “Harry please, not now.” _

He scowled as she thrashed around a little.

_ “You’re hurting me.” _

Her left hand went to her right wrist and she rubbed at it as if someone had been gripping it too tightly. She winced too. Petyr saw _ red _.

He’d _ murder _ that little prick.

She started breathing hard, as if hyperventilating, and her bottom lip quivering as she whimpered. The sound dialed down his rage as his concern came back. He took pity on her and reached for her arm. She started at the contact, jumping away from him as if he’d burned her. He rubbed gently, his other hand moving to the side of her face to try and coax her gently from her nightmare.

“Sansa.” His voice was husky from sleep but he kept it low and non-threatening. She frowned in her sleep, an adorable little crease between her eyebrows. “Sansa wake up. It’s just a dream, darling.”

His thumb stroked over her cheekbone before he moved his hand to grip her shoulder, but before he could his fingers got caught up in her _ non _ auburn hair and ended up pulling it a little, though she winced as if he’d pulled three times as hard. _ I've pulled her hair harder during sex and she only encouraged me on, _ he pondered with a little smirk. Though it was wiped clean off his face when she struggled against him, hand flying up between them to strike him just under the eye. She’d punched him, hard.

He winced and pulled back, cradling his now throbbing cheekbone. Besides feeling _ pain _ , he also felt a little proud. His girl knew how to hit. Good. Though he knew he needed to stop referring to her as _ his _ because she most certainly wasn’t… yet, that is.

She was still thrashing and his shoulder suffered the next blow. _ “Shhh, shhh _ , Sansa stop, it’s _ me _.” He forced her hands into one of his, knowing it was probably making her more scared but also trying not to have two black eyes by morning. Her eyes blinked wide open now but she didn’t stop fighting him, clearly still caught up in her subconscious to realize. “Hush. It’s okay, sweetling. You’re dreaming.”

_ And damn her, it was the nickname that got her to calm down. _

She stopped fighting him, taking deep and steady breaths to calm herself. Her eyes were wide oceans of blue and unshed tears made them far more glassy than usual. He could get lost in those pools for days.

He reached for the lamp beside his bed and switched it on so she could see him clearly. Her eyes widened immediately and her hand moved her touch the side of his face.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" She exclaimed, looking horrified. He winced a little when her fingers grazed the sore flesh that she'd hit just moments ago.

"Are you okay?" He asked, ignoring her concern for him. That didn't matter now, but she did. She always does. She always would. She always has.

She swallowed thickly and withdrew her hand from him. Her knees came up to press against her chest and she hugged them closer to herself defensively. She nodded.

"What were you dreaming about?" He asked cautiously and something flashed in her eyes but he didn't catch it. She shrugged.

"I don't remember." She mumbled in reply. _ Bull shit she doesn't. _

He pulled her face back up to meet his with a finger beneath her chin. He tried not to take offense when she turned her head sharply to shrug him off. Concern filled his expression, his brow creased.

"You said something about your fiance." He offered and she kept her emotions in tact. She knew how well he could read people, especially her. "Is everything alright at home… with him?"

She frowned, seemingly offended. _ "Yes." _ She spat back. "Everything's _ fine _ , Petyr. Even if it wasn't, it's none of your business." He felt a stab of hurt at that. He knew she was right… it _ wasn't _his business, but it still hurt him to hear that. To hear that her life wasn't his business anymore.

_ It's been three years _, he reminded himself, feeling annoyed at his own inability to let go when she clearly has.

"Fine. But you were-"

"Petyr. I'm fine. It was just a bad dream." Her words were sharp around the edges and cold in the center. She didn't look at him and he knew everything was _ not _ fine, but he also knew she couldn't be pushed any further tonight, so he let it go.

"Do you need anything? More tea?" He offered and her eyes finally met his. She ignored his comment and her eyes instead found the place just under his eye.

"I really got you." She stated and he instinctively lifted his hand to rub at the place his face was aching. He shrugged one shoulder, and a little half smile showed itself. She copied the expression. "I'm sorry. It's already bruising."

He licked his lips to moisten the sudden dryness. "I probably deserved it." He jested and she smiled. He savored the sight, drinking up every detail. He missed that smile like nothing he'd ever missed before and something warmed inside of him at the sight.

"I was tossing and turning for hours until I fell asleep and had that dream." She informed him. "I won't be able to sleep properly until I know how he is."

She was talking about that _ man. _ His jaw clenched tightly and he could tell she noticed the change in him. He couldn't help the anger he felt… the boiling rage that stirred within him at the thought of that sick bastard.

He swallowed down the lump in his throat forcefully before taking a deep, steady breath. He needed to be there for her. "I could call the hospital, if you want." He suggested and her eyes lit up a little.

"Oh, yes, thank you!" She replied and he sighed as he stood. She followed him out into the living room where they both sat down on his makeshift bed. Cas lifted her head across the room where she was sleeping to stare at them in question. He dialed the number and pressed the phone to his ear, stifling a yawn.

"Yes, hello. My wife," he lied, glancing over at Sansa. It was to get the woman to be more willing to share the man's current state, though he'd be lying if he said he didn't like the sound of it. Sansa seemed to understand immediately. He loved her quick wit. "she was attacked earlier this evening by a man in an alleyway… she has a little post traumatic stress and can't find herself being able to sleep without knowing of his condition. Is there anyway you could tell us how he is? She's guilt ridden." He paused, hearing the lady sigh on the other end of the phone. "Please. He was stabbed-" he glanced over at Sansa, who held up three fingers. His eyebrows rose in surprise. "-three times. The weapon was a pocket knife. Black."

He hoped his description of the wounds as well as the weapon would prove that he really was who he said he was. The lady sighed again but there was a change in the sound. She sounded defeated.

_ "I'm sorry to hear about that." _She started. _ "Yes, I can tell you. He'd just got out of surgery but he's stable. He's alive." _

Petyr felt hot anger flow through his veins but when he looked into the hopeful blue eyes of the woman he loved, he felt relieved that she wouldn't have to live with herself knowing she was a murderer. _Besides_, he thought, _now_ _I get a chance at him myself._

He nodded, a small smile forced for her benefit. The relief that washed over her was clear and she, surprising him, reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze before letting go again. It was a thank you, he realized.

She was fast asleep after that… didn't even make it to his bed. She passed out beside him, head on the armrest and knees touching his thigh. He didn't want to wake her but he also knew she would be annoyed with him if he fell asleep beside her like this. So he sighed and reluctantly stood, reaching for her like he'd done so many times before while they were dating.

He curled her into his chest and pulled her up in his arms. He couldn't stop the gentle smile that graced his lips when her head tucked comfortably into his shoulder. Subconsciously, she was used to this too. Her shirt, _ his shirt, _rode up to expose the bare flesh of her hip as he carried her and he stroked his thumb across it once, twice, his body and heart aching at the feel of her skin against his.

He set her down in his bed and covered her with the blankets, hesitating for a moment before leaving her be and shutting the door behind himself.

Gods, did he love that woman.

* * *

He must have drifted off at some point, for he woke to the sound of someone, _ Sansa, _ making coffee. He smiled when he saw her giving Cas a kiss to the top of her furry head. She looked gorgeous standing there in his clothes, two mugs hanging from her fingers in one hand and a coffee pot in the other. The corner of his mouth tilted upwards. He'd have to enjoy this while it lasts… her being here.

She smiled a little shyly at him when she noticed him staring and made her way towards the couch, sitting down beside him. Cas followed and sat by his feet like she always did. Sansa offered him one of the mugs and he accepted it immediately, if only to brush his fingers against hers. He brought the cup to his lips and sipped at the hot liquid. Black, just as he likes. She'd remembered.

"So," he started, an arm going behind her on the couch so he could face her better. Her eyes followed the movement but she didn't complain so he stayed like that, pretending his arm was wrapped around her instead. "Do you know his name?"

Her mouth twisted awkwardly. She nodded. "Ramsay Bolton." She muttered quietly and he watched her closely. She'd gone all closed off once again. She looked down at her hands.

"What would you like to do to him if you could?" He asked, voice dropping a decimal. Her eyes flashed back up to his in question. "If you could do anything." He added.

She swallowed thickly and shook her head. _ I don't know. _

He pushed further. "Use your imagination, Sansa." He saw a flicker of a smile cross her lips. "I could kill him." He blurted out.

Her eyes widened. "What?"

He leaned forwards, removing his arm from behind her and placing his cup of coffee on the table in front of them. He licked his lips slowly, something dark clouding his eyes.

"I could kill that son of a bitch." He repeated. "I could do it with my own hands. You could watch, if you wanted to."

She gapped, seemingly trying to figure out if he was being real or not. "Petyr-" She frowned in confusion and he blinked, slowly realizing what he had just let slip and how serious it was.

He leaned back again and smirked. "I'd do it for you. To make you feel safe, if that's what it took." He said truthfully, dialing down the darkness of the conversation for a second. She looked back down.

"That shouldn't be necessary." She replied, twisting her mouth in thought. There was something there, though… in her eyes. Like she was surprised at how far Petyr was willing to go for her after everything. She knew how much he still loved her, didn't she? How often he thought about her? How much it still aches him inside.

"I want to be in your life again."

The words passed his lips before he could stop them. Her eyes snapped back up to his, frown in place. He wanted to cringe. He bit down on his lip and proceeded carefully; "look, I know you love him. And I know you've started this whole new life and I'm sure you're worried that I'm going to fuck it up like last time, but I can't go without you anymore, Sansa. I'd like to be your friend."

She looked down at her lap and chewed at the side of her cheek. She swallowed thickly. "I… don't know, Petyr."

He didn't realize he was holding his breath until he let it out in a long regretful sigh. He pet Cas with care, if only to give him something to do with his hands so they weren't inching to grab a hold of her. Sansa's gaze met his again and her eyes were filled with sadness. "It hurts me to see you." She admitted and he felt an ache in his chest.

"It hurts me to see you too, Sansa. I don't think I can let you leave again knowing you want nothing to do with me." He replied and she licked her lips to moisten them. He could tell she was in deep thought… considering what he was telling her. Her gaze drove into his but he didn't fight anything or put his usual mask up… he wanted her to see him; to understand him. He let his gaze sweep over every detail of her face, letting the pure longing show through. She needed to see it.

"let's just start with you being my attorney for now." She said firmly and his gaze finally left her. He looked down at the coffee mug on the table and reached for it again, drinking a generous amount. He nodded, though sadly, and put the mask back up for now. "It's just… I-"

"It's okay, Sansa. I can't possibly expect anything from you when I had my chance and I blew it." He paused, voice coming out as a whisper for the next words about to spill from his mouth. _ "I never should have let you leave that night." _

Pain flashed in her eyes at the statement, but she stayed silent.

"I should go." She breathed out, finishing her coffee and standing. He copied her actions.

"You don't have to. You can stay until your fiance gets back." He offered, knowing there was no chance but also not wanting to see her leave again so soon. She shook her head and he nodded sadly in return. "Can I drive you?"

She let him do that much.

They were quiet for most of the drive, mainly because Petyr had no idea what to say to her. He just kept sneaking glances her way. It made him smile a little when she flipped through his CD collection and chose the same one she always use to. Kind of Blue, Miles Davis. A classic that he knew she adored.

He always pictured himself having dinner with her on his balcony while they listened to this album on repeat. There would be lights all around them and a bouquet of daisies because they were her favourite. He would've prepared bourbon pecan chicken for both of them, to replicate the first meal they ever ate together that wasn't fast food. Then he would ask her.

_ Sansa Alayne Stark, will you marry me? _

She would start crying. She would crouch down in front of him and hold the sides of his face with both hands. She would kiss him.

_ Say you'll be mine, Sansa. Say you'll be my wife. _

She would nod her head frantically, whispering _ yes, yes, yes. _

Unfortunately driving around in the city abruptly pulled him from his daydream as a Toyota was cut off to his right.

"Oh, it's this one here." Sansa pointed to his left and he pulled into the driveway. It was a quaint house that seemed to need quite a bit of work on it. Sansa smiled sheepishly. "It was Harry's mother's. She passed away last year and him and I moved in. I've been trying to fix it up and make it look more my style, but-"

"It's lovely, Sansa." He cut off her rambling and she flushed a little in embarrassment.

Her expression turned serious again. "I really appreciate everything Petyr. Thank you."

He nodded. "Of course, Sansa." He paused, looking back at the house. Sansa had planted daisies along the walkway and a fresh coat of paint had recently been added to the garage and door. "You have my number if you need anything. And I mean _ anything. _ " She nodded in reply. "If a trial happens, let me know, but I don't see _ him _ pressing charges on you as that wouldn't lead anywhere good for him." He turned to her. "Do _ you _ want to press charges?"

He hoped she had said yes. But she shook her head timidly. "I don't want to see him again."

"Didn't you say he worked with you?" Petyr pointed out.

"Not in my department. Besides, my boss likes me a lot and if I ask to move myself even _ further _ away from him then I'm sure he'll say yes." She replied and he chewed at the side of his cheek. That fucker wouldn't face any consequences for his actions. "I _ did _almost kill him. I don't think he'll want to be anywhere near me because of the humiliation."

Petyr, for some reason, _ really _ didn't think so, but he felt it wasn't his place to question her.

"So then… will I see you again?" He asked quietly, suddenly realizing they'd have no reason to be around each other after this moment.

She sat in quiet thought for a long time.

"Yes." Was all she said before pushing open the door and fleeing. He opened his mouth to say something, _ anything _, but no words formed on his tongue and she was gone. Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Animosity: a feeling of strong dislike that tends to display itself in action.
> 
> Not even FRIENDS!? Gosh this is going to be a slow burn for sure. Sorry not sorry.


	3. Amicus Curiae

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorrrrry! I'm starting to update my stories again... I know it's been a while.
> 
> I have another chapter of this one to post so I'll edit it amd probably post it up today as well.
> 
> Ahh, the slow burn, burnnnsss.

A week. A week had passed since he last spoke to Sansa; since he last saw her.

He was going _ mad _.

The bruise she had given him under his eye had begun to fade. Every time he saw it in the mirror he couldn't help but laugh. His strong baby girl. But then he'd feel sad… she said they'd see each other again, but he hadn't heard a peep from her since. He had sent her a text a couple days ago checking in and she responded with a brief, _ everything's fine, thank you. _ He had tried to make a joke after but she didn't respond.

He felt like a teenager again, checking his phone over and over, feeling like he was going crazy with the lack of contact. _ What was wrong with him? _

He sat down heavily on the edge of his bed, a small box in hand. He sighed, staring at it for the first time in over three years. He blew the excess dust from it and brushed off the rest with his thumbs. The box was a deep dark-blue colour.

He remembered the first time he saw it. He had looked at dozens. It took him days of browsing to find the right one. He had felt like giving up before an older lady who worked at the jewelry shop in the city had told him she had just the right ring. She left for god knows how long but eventually she returned from the back with this little box. She opened it and he felt something warm within his chest. He knew instantly. He could see her face when he would give it to her stuck in his head. He got goosebumps for god's sake.

He use to open it all the time and just look at it as he planned out the perfect moment in his head. He refused to look at it since she left. Since he fucked it all up.

He subconsciously held his breath as he opened the lid. It glimmered back at him tauntingly. The ring made him sad… and angry; very angry. It represented what _ could have been _ had he not been such a fucking imbecile.

It was the life he could have had.

He slammed the lid shut and stuffed it back in his drawer, slamming it closed.

_ "Fuck." _ He cursed, rubbing his temples as he stood.

He felt his phone vibrating in his pocket and rolled his eyes as he reached in his back pocket to fish it out. Myranda had been calling him non stop these past few days but he just ignored every one of them.

He had his thumb hovering over _ decline _, ready to press it but he abruptly stopped. It wasn't Myranda. It was Sansa. His Sansa.

His heart skipped and he quickly answered, pressing the phone to his ear hastily.

"Sansa." He greeted, trying to keep his voice even.

"Hi." She replied on the other end.

"How are you?" He asked, scratching behind his neck awkwardly.

"Good." She said simply. "Uh, I'm calling because Harry and I have decided we should thank you properly for helping me last week. I was hoping you would like to have dinner with us? At our house."

Petyr's eyebrows rose in surprise. Dinner with the love of his life and her fiance. What could go wrong?

"Oh," He started in order to delay his response so he could think about it a moment longer.

"I know it'll be weird, Petyr, but he's very protective and paranoid. I think the only reason he brought up this idea was so he could meet you and be reassured that there's nothing going on between us." There was a long silence between them, one where they were both thinking the same exact thing. "And I _ do _ wish to thank you properly, Petyr." She added.

He sighed. He could never deny her anything. "And _ your _ cooking is supposed to do that?" He teased, trying to break the tension. He heard her breathe a laugh on the other end of the line.

"If you do come, though…" She started, tone serious. "He doesn't know… About us." She told him hesitantly. "And it's going to remain that way, do you understand? I don't want any sly comments or flirtatious remarks. I am your friend and nothing more."

"Friend." He repeated. "I thought you didn't want to be my friend."

"I told Harry you were an old friend on the phone… So that's what you have to be." She explained.

"Oh I see. We can be fake friends when your fiance's around but when he's not… I'm just your attorney, should ever you need me." His tone was sarcastic and he regretted it immediately. He just couldn't bite his tongue anymore.

She sighed; long and heavy. "Petyr, friends help each other out. They keep each other's secret's and they're there for them no matter what." She paused. "If you'll do this for me, prove that you can be my friend, then I'll consider it."

Despite the fact that it didn't seem like much progress at all, his heart soared.

"Deal. What should I bring?"

* * *

And so there he was the following afternoon, standing in the driveway of Sansa's home. _ Correction. _ Sansa and _ Harry's _home.

Fall had arrived quickly in the past few weeks and the trees on the property had begun shedding their multicoloured leaves. Petyr was strangely anxious for this evening and found himself reaching in the pocket of his black trench coat for his pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out and lit it quickly, breathing in the chemicals with greed.

He leaned against the side of his car as he smoked and worried and smoked and stressed. He had a bottle of Arbor Gold tucked under his arm and a small but classy bouquet of daisies laying on the hood of the car.

He could do this. He could make sure to not look at her an excessive amount and to hold his tongue 90% of the time and to act like every single particle of his being wasn't craving her. He could act like he wasn't in love with her. He could do that.

He flicked his cigarette butt to the side and took a deep breath as he picked up the flowers and approached the door. As he got closer he spotted Sansa through the window for a second. She was in the kitchen, cooking away. But she looked stunning; long dark maroon skirt with a black long sleeve shirt tucked into it. Her hair was mostly up but a few curly strands framed her face.

He drew strength from the sight of her and knocked.

After a few moments the door swung open and he was met face to face with the man marrying the woman he loves.

He was tall, taller than Petyr, and bulky too. It became abundantly clear that if it ever came to a fight… Petyr would be on his ass. Though he didn't expect her to pick someone so… boyish?

He offered Petyr a lopsided smile and nodded his head in greeting. "You must be Petyr, the man that helped my fiance when I was away."

And right off the bat he reminds Petyr of exactly where he stands.

Petyr gritted his teeth, offering Harry his hand to shake. "And you must be Harry." _ The son of a bitch I'd like to kick in the teeth. _

They shook, both grips unnecessarily firm. He took the offered wine from Petyr's hand and stared questioningly at the flowers in his other hand. Petyr stripped himself of his jacket next and hung it up neatly by the door, seeing as _ dumbass _ didn't offer to take it for him. He followed Harry inside to (thankfully) the kitchen where Sansa was finishing up dinner for them.

"Baby, your friend's here." Harry announced as they entered the kitchen.

She spun around, catching sight of him and flashing him a smile. He didn't care if he was over stepping by doing what he was about to do… because technically it can be seen as totally innocent and _ friendly. _

He took quick strides towards her and embraced her, arms wrapping around her frame. She tensed immediately.

_ "Relax, sweetling." _ He breathed in her ear and she did, hugging him back. He even left a kiss on the side of her head, breathing in the scent of her hair.

"It's great to see you again. How are you feeling?" He asked as he pulled away, playing the role of concerned friend.

"I'm good, really." Sansa smiled. "I'm glad you came. Thank you." Her _ thank you _ meant more than what Harry assumed and Petyr knew that immediately, sending her a stealthy wink.

"These are for you." He told her, holding the flowers out to her. She looked at them with a surprised expression before her eyes trailed up to his with a warning stare. He smirked. "What?" He asked aloud with a charming smile. "Is it weird to bring your friend flowers if she's recovering from a traumatic experience?"

There was amusement on Sansa's face but she hid it well. She smiled gratefully and took them from him. "Sorry, Petyr, they're lovely. I'm just not used to…" She trailed off, suddenly realizing what she was saying and that Harry was right behind her. _ Not used to being treated in such a way. Not used to being given flowers. Not used to the attention. _

"What was that?" He asked, looking irritated. Sansa sighed as she filled a vase with water.

"Hmm?" She played it off as if it were nothing, but Petyr could see the panic behind her eyes. "Oh I was just saying I'm not used to having good friends."

Harry crossed his arms, eyebrows pinched together, but he seemed to accept her obvious lie and grabbed the cutlery from the counter and left the room with it.

Sansa arranged the flowers in the vase neatly and smiled at them. "You remembered." She said quietly without looking over at him. She was referring to the flowers… they were her favourite. He stepped closer to her so they could talk without her fiance overhearing.

"I never forgot." He corrected her, his voice soft and low. There was a short pause between them, but she still didn't look at him, instead she looked out the window on the other side of the room.

"It took you long enough to finally knock." She said, a teasing lilt to her voice. He followed her gaze outside. "You still smoke, then?"

She never liked it when he smoked. "Rarely, actually, but today I needed to calm my nerves a bit." She nodded in understanding.

"The daisies are pretty." She said before Harry came back and Sansa resumed cooking.

* * *

"Arbor Gold." Harry mused aloud as he watched Petyr pouring their glasses.

When the first glass was full, Harry made to grab it from him, clearly assuming he should have the first one, but Petyr had other ideas. He eyed Harry judgmentally as he slowly slid the glass to Sansa.

Sansa was biting back a smile.

Petyr was astounded she had chosen him for a husband. He seemed to be the opposite of her type… his manners especially were terrible. _ Who doesn't give the first glass to the only lady in the room? The lady who made dinner for all of them, on top of that. His FIANCE. _

Like Jesus, if Sansa was _ Petyr's _fiance… she'd get everything she'd ever want served to her on a golden platter. He'd take care of her.

"How much do you have to make to drink Arbor Gold, I wonder?" Harry asked as Petyr passed him his drink, finally.

_ "Harry!" _ Sansa scolded and the man shrugged as if he wasn't being rude.

Petyr smirked, finishing with his own glass. "I'm pretty good with my finances, that's all really." Humble. That's what Sansa would want. He could brag and hurt the ego of the man across from him, sure, but where would that get him with Sansa?

He took a drink of the wine and then licked the taste off his lips. "So this is an everyday kind of drink for you?" Harry asked and Petyr frowned, trying to figure out where he was going with that. "You aren't, say, trying to impress anyone?"

"Harold." Sansa warned again but Harry's eyes didn't leave Petyr's.

"You mean your stunning fiance?" Petyr questioned and Harry's eyes narrowed. He could see Sansa fidgeting anxiously to the left of him.

Petyr cut into his chicken breast and ate the bite slowly, almost intimidatingly. Then he remembered the deal he had with Sansa. She'll consider letting him in her life again -as a friend- if he does this for her. He swallowed the food.

"Look lad," he said, catching Sansa's attention. She knew he was not the 'lad' type of guy. But if Petyr wanted to spend time with Sansa, it could help if the soon-to-be husband likes him. "When I first laid eyes on her…" He looked over at Sansa who was staring at him curiously. "I immediately realized I was looking at the most beautiful woman in the world." Something in her eyes softened and for a split second it was like Harry wasn't even there anymore. Petyr looked back at her fiance. "But sadly for me she was never interested." He smirked playfully. "I tried, _ believe _ me." He chuckled and the man across him smiled a little in amusement. "I care about her a lot. But she's my friend, and any feelings I may have harboured for her died a long time ago."

He picked up his wine glass and looked to Sansa. "You don't have anything to worry about." He said, looking back at Harry and taking a drink. The man nodded.

"Sorry man. I just had to make sure, y'know?" He replied and Petyr licked his lips.

"No need to apologize. I would be just as protective." He met Sansa's gaze, felt warm under it. "She's the kind of woman you don't let go of if you can help it."

The last sentence was raw and real and he saw pain flash in her eyes. He was sure the expression was mirrored in his.

Conversation was lighter, easier, after that and Harry warmed to him fast. He laughed at his jokes and seemed interested in everything Petyr had to say. It was historical to Petyr because the entire time he was imagining what colour of underwear Sansa was wearing.

* * *

The evening ended rather smoothly and Harry offered him his hand to shake again once Petyr prepared to take his leave. He accepted the offered hand and shook it kindly, earning a slap on the back which made Petyr internally roll his eyes.

"It was nice to meet you, mate. I hope you visit more often." Harry said and Petyr smirked.

"As do I, my friend." He drawled, glancing at Sansa who seemed amused.

Harry moved towards his fiance, kissing her cheek. "Babe I've got to call Robin to check in… his girlfriend left him and he's not taking it well. Would you mind if I left to call him?" Sansa shook her head, so Harry left for the other room.

"Sansa." Petyr started to get her attention. "Would you mind walking me to my car?"

She narrowed her eyes on him but eventually gave in and nodded, so they left together.

It was a beautiful night. The moon was full and bright and the stars more visible than usual. The air was warm and Petyr breathed it in deeply in an attempt at gaining some courage.

"Thank you, Petyr." She said softly as they neared his car, the stones crunching under their feet as they walked. "I'm impressed. I didn't know if you'd be able to get through that as my friend or not." She admitted.

They stopped, leaned against his car. "Thanks for the faith, sweetling." He quipped. She breathed a laugh and didn't say anything about the nickname, so he took it as a win for him.

They were silent for a moment and Sansa sighed. "I should probably go back inside." She told him before taking a step forward. His hand shot out and wrapped around her wrist.

"No, wait!" He paused, feeling at a loss for words. She turned to him expectantly. He swallowed thickly. "I need to ask you something."

She pulled her arm from his grasp but didn't walk away yet. "Ask me what?"

He took a step forward and she didn't move, seemingly frozen in spot, watching him. "I know that I fucked it up between you and I romantically. And I know you're happy with him." He started, his gut twisting nervously. Sansa watched him intently, a warning in her eyes. "But I have to know…" He stepped closer and still, she didn't move. "Is there a part of you… a tiny sliver, even… that still feels something for me?" Her gaze left his and settled on the house beside them.

_ "Is there a chance?" _ His voice was a whisper and it drew her gaze back to his. She opened her mouth to respond but he could tell it wasn't what he wanted to hear, so he hastily interrupted her before she could start to reject him. "No matter how impossibly small it may be… is there a chance for us again, if Harry wasn't in the picture?"

She looked down, biting the corner of her mouth nervously… or perhaps in thought.

The silence was killing him. He searched her face with his eyes, looking for any kind of sign as to what she was thinking. He took one more step forwards to bring her attention back to him, begging for an answer, but she placed her hand firmly on his chest to stop him. Hurt flashed through his eyes.

"Thank you for this evening. I owe you."

Then she left.

He wasn't quite sure if that was an answer or not. She hadn't told him to fuck off, so that's a plus, but she also certainly didn't say yes, either.

He watched her go back inside and sighed deeply, pulling out the keys for his car and unlocking the doors, hopping in.

He left her house, _ their _ house, and drove around for what felt like hours.

He'd make her forgive him. He'd win her back.

Eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amicus Curiae: a lawyer who assists the court during the course of a hearing to represent a position of interest.


	4. Arbitration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're looking forward to steamy phone conversations that'll make you laugh... cause I am.

He closed his laptop, sighing as he rubbed at his temples. His phone buzzed and he just about jumped across his desk to retrieve it.

_ Sansa: Harry wants to know if you watch football. _

Petyr smirked at the message. He seems to be winning the fiance over easier than the woman he loves.

Petyr sat back in his wheely leather office chair and texted her back.

_ Petyr: Not really, why? He asking me on a date? _

Petyr smirked to himself, placing his phone down and working on the papers stacking up on his desk. She answered shortly after.

_ Sansa: He might have a crush on you. _

Petyr laughed.

_Sansa: Wants to know if you'll 'come over for the big game tomorrow'_ _? You're welcome to stay for dinner again._

They had been joking back and forth for the past week and it made Petyr hopeful that she was considering what he had asked after dinner at her house.

_ Petyr: Dinner and a movie? Wow, he might get lucky. _

He chuckled to himself, imagining her laughing her ass off.

_ Sansa: What a sight that would be. _

Petyr's eyebrows rose in surprise, smirk plastered on his face.

_ Petyr: Oh? Is he any good? _

He was curious.

Was he better?

No way.

_ Sansa: Yes. _

Petyr winced. Well, good isn't _ great, _ now is it?

_ Petyr: Better than me? _

He couldn't help himself. He needed to know. Though he also suspected that she'd say anything to bother him… especially in a situation like this one.

_ Sansa: Just different. _

He frowned. _ Different. _

_ Petyr: Different, how? _

Sansa replied with an emoji rolling its eyes.

_ Petyr: Come now, if I have room for improvement, please share. _

_ Sansa: You're such a guy. _

_ Petyr: I do have a cock… _

He smirked, knowing she'd be rolling her eyes again.

_ Sansa: Yes, I'm aware. _

_ Sansa: He's just always very… fast. Never takes his time. _

_ Sansa: And I didn't realize when we were together, how nice it was to have someone that enjoys eating me out. _

Petyr felt the pride fill his chest. Fuck, yes.

_ Petyr: Doesn't take his time? Tsktsktsk. _

_ Petyr: And Sansa, your cunt… _

_ Petyr: Mmmmm. _

But then she ruined the moment by sharing _ his _ downfall.

_ Sansa: But his cock is bigger. _

Petyr clenched his jaw.

_ Petyr: You're one cruel woman. _

She replied with a laughing and winking emoji.

He let the anger leave him and breathed out a deep sigh. How big must he be, then? Because Petyr knew he was bigger than average. He must be _ big _. Petyr frowned.

Okay, _ but a _ bigger cock means nothing if he doesn't know how to use it properly and by the sounds of it… Petyr felt smug again. Besides, she could be lying. Petyr couldn't imagine Sansa begging or screaming louder than how she did for him. That's pretty much as good as it gets… the sex they had together.

He shook his head to clear it from such thoughts and focused back on his work. He'd get _ nothing _ done if he kept thinking about _ that. _

* * *

Seven times.

Seven times in three months Petyr had gone over to the Hardyng-Stark household.

Somehow he had charmed Harold into thinking they were best buds.

Meanwhile Sansa had only _ just _ agreed to be his friend.

It was nice, though… to be her friend. She had called him during the night once because she couldn't sleep and she knew Petyr would be awake. Harry and herself had just had an argument about the June wedding, and she needed to rant to someone about it. Petyr was more than thrilled to listen.

She had wanted to get married in the fall, but Harry had convinced her that June would be better. Now he's having trouble getting his family flown down for the wedding and wants to push it another year.

Being her friend was also _ painful. _

Helping her was great, but listening to her explain her love for the man he wished was himself… well it was absolute torture.

And then one afternoon, as he was throwing a ball for Cas in the backyard, a message came through his phone that made his heart sink.

_ Fucker: Man, I need to talk. Sansa's talking about kids, but I don't think I want that. _

He stared at the text for god knows how long before he found the courage to respond.

_ Kids!? _

Sansa wants to have children with this man?

To be linked to him indefinitely? Forever?

He felt like he'd throw up.

But he knew he'd have to respond and he knew he'd have to be a friend to Sansa. If he gave this man bad advice… to say, _ get the fuck out of there before she stops taking her birth control pills, _ then he'd hurt Sansa. Again. And he can't have that. He needed to be a friend to her, as much as it kills him.

"Pete! What do I do!?"

Petyr sighed, pulling a cigarette out of it's pack and fishing around his jacket pocket for a lighter. What he was about to do _ definitely _earned a cigarette or two… or a pack, or two.

"Do you love her?" He asked through the phone.

"Yeah, I… well I think."

Petyr paused, lighter in hand. "You _ think?" _ He asked slowly, grip tightening around the cell phone in his hand. "You're engaged."

"I, well, _ yes, _ I know!" He exclaimed, sounding flustered. "Of course I love her… but, I don't know if I love her _ that _ much."

Petyr frowned. His question was simple. Do you love her? Would you do anything for her? What's complicated about that? It's a yes or no answer.

"Wait… you don't know if you love her enough to have children with her… but you love her enough to marry her?" He clarified, finally getting his damn cigarette lit. He breathed in, sucking on it, before letting out a long stream of smoke. It billowed through the gloomy sky for a short moment.

"Well, you know… I was just taking it one step at a time." He paused. "The whole wedding thing I mean."

He would kill this son of a bitch.

He can't have Sansa because this dick wad has her… but he doesn't love her like he should. Like she deserves. Like _ Petyr _ does.

"Look I… I love her, but-" he sighed, clearly struggling. "I don't want children. But she does. I don't think I love her enough to give up my life for kids."

Petyr's jaw clenched tightly.

"Listen to me." He started, voice tight. He tried to keep the anger from seeping through the phone. This _ bastard _ doesn't deserve her. "That woman is the best thing that will _ ever _ walk into your life. You won't find someone better, and you'll regret not giving her everything she could ever want in life when you're without her." He paused, breathing in the chemicals deeply to calm his body. "Give her everything she wants. And if you can't do that, _ tell her. _ Be honest and then she can make a decision from there."

Harry was quiet, absorbing everything he had said. "But believe me when I say…" Petyr continued. "You're an idiot to do anything that will risk her leaving you. An idiot."

He knew this as a fact. Because _ he _ himself was that idiot.

The phone conversation ended rather quickly after that and Petyr shook his head… knowing that man will not have a child with her. _ Idiot. _

* * *

His habit of smoking, unfortunately, resumed to what it once was when he was first with Sansa. She had gotten him down to a pack a week, and he began to feel good about himself… but he was back up to smoking multiple times a day now.

It was the stress.

Sansa wants to have a child with him.

It shouldn't have surprised and affected Petyr in such a way, seeing as she was marrying the guy… but it did. Because a marriage can be annulled or they can get divorced or simply decide to leave each other… but a _ child? _

That, she will never be able to escape. Not ever.

He shook the metal lighter a few times before flicking the thing to get it to spark. Finally, after many attempts, it did.

He lit the end of his cigarette and allowed the chemicals to burn their way down his throat and into his awaiting lungs.

It was drizzling outside, and dead _ cold. _ The first sign of winter coming soon. He mourned the fall weather as he wrapped his jacket more tightly around himself.

Cas seemed to be feeling it too, for she curled up against his legs. He bent down to pet between her ears like she likes, glad for the company.

He sat down on the front stairs of his house to cuddle Cas properly, the cigarette dangling between his lips.

Cas' ears twitched and Petyr stared at her curiously before the sound of a car's wheels on the gravelly rocks leading up to his house, caught his attention.

It was Sansa's car.

He stood, tossing his half-smoked cigarette to the ground. He held Cas by her collar so she wouldn't run to Sansa just yet, letting her park and open the door.

Though, as soon as he saw her face, he knew something was wrong.

He let go of his dog, who barked enthusiastically, and raced over to the woman he loves. His eyes scanned her for injuries before landing back on her face.

Her expression was odd. Something was off, that's for sure, but he wasn't sure what emotion exactly she was feeling. It looked to be a mixture of fear and sadness and panic all at the same time.

He frowned, asking what happened, but she only shook her head.

She surprised Petyr by wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling his body against hers. The last time she had done that was when she almost killed a man.

He began to worry.

He hugged her tightly, because he knew she needed that more than anything right now.

Both his hands went to the sides of her face as he looked at her intensely. "Sansa." He said and her eyes met his.

"Petyr, I'm pregnant." She blurted out.

His face (stomach and heart) dropped down to his feet.

"I'm pregnant and I wasn't sure about it at first… I-I was scared and I didn't think it was the right time but there's no changing it now and…" She took fast breaths, as if on the verge of hyperventilating. "And so I asked Harry if he wanted kids, and he doesn't. He said he never will and he-he suggested calling off the wedding if that was what I wanted."

_ Fucking idiot. _

"But I _ am _ pregnant and now he's going to leave me and I-I don't know what to do and-and-"

_ "Shh. _Breathe love. Breathe." He pulled her in for another hug and consoled her as she caught her breath.

Her cheeks were stained with tears when she pulled away this time and he quickly wiped them away.

"Come on."

He pulled her inside, half carrying her, before placing her down on the couch.

She had calmed down by then, wiping her own tears away.

"I'm sorry." She laughed, somewhat bitterly. "It's the fucking hormones coursing through me."

Petyr didn't say anything, just watched her… wishing he could hold her again.

"God, fuck him, right?" She sighed, running a shaky hand through her hair. He figured he should be happy about this… rough waters between the happy couple, but he wasn't. His love was sad. "And like… how am I supposed to tell him now? Now that he's made it very clear that he doesn't want to be a part of my life if kids are involved."

"Do you want to keep it?" Petyr asked calmly. If she did, he would help her. He would raise the child as his own if she let him. And if not, he'd be there for her in that way, too.

She took a deep breath to try and calm down further. "I don't know." She said quietly, looking down at her hand, which rubbed across her flat stomach.

"Think about it. Whatever you decide… we'll take care of it." He paused. "It's your decision to tell him or not." She sighed heavily.

Petyr made to reach for her hand, but froze with what she muttered next. "I still love him."

But of course she did.

In truth he hadn't done anything wrong. She found out she was with child… asked if he wanted children, and he answered honestly. How was he to know she was pregnant?

Would this change his mind? Or _ would _ he leave?

Petyr corrected himself: Harry _ had _ done something wrong… _ "I don't think I love her enough to give up my life for kids…" _

But _ she _ should be his life.

There shouldn't be anything for him without her. At least that was the case for Petyr.

"I know." He whispered gently, voice sad and quiet and defeated.

"Gods, I shouldn't have come here. I'm sorry." She stood abruptly, but Petyr had no intentions of letting her leave again.

Not. Again.

He stood and grabbed her shoulders before she could step past him and the action made her flinch in surprise. "Don't leave." He said hoarsely. "Please. Let me help. Let me help you."

She swallowed thickly. "Help me _ how, _ Petyr? Help me into your bed? No thank you."

He frowned. _ Where did that come from? _

She strode past him but he caught her hand. "Sansa, _ no. _ " He said sternly. "You can't just _ leave _ again!"

This time it was her to frown in confusion before understanding slowly filled her eyes and she tore her hand out of his grasp.

"We aren't together, Petyr." She stated the obvious, glaring at him. "And to answer your question from before… no. There is no chance for us."

His whole body deflated.

He opened his mouth to say something -_ Anything- _ but closed it again. Like a fish out of water. _ No chance? Not even the tiniest? _

He'd never be with her again. Never kiss her or hold her or make love to her… he'd never get to give her that god forsaken ring.

He fell backwards onto the couch, stunned.

And then she left and the breath escaped his lungs in one fell swoop.

It was like the first time all over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arbitration: a process where a neutral third party makes a decision on the issue in dispute.
> 
> No chance!!!?
> 
> Poor Pete.
> 
> And poor SANSA, all knocked up with a fiance that doesn't want kids and a friend that she feels only wants her in his bed.
> 
> Will she keep it?


	5. Absentee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapter's in one day??!
> 
> Enjoy this one! It's a little shorter but you meet a new character!
> 
> I hope you like him.

They were making out: hard.

He should be loving it, shouldn't he?

Loving her hand stroking just under his belt. Loving her teeth biting down on his lip. He should be loving the fact that she had torn her shirt off and was now working on her jeans.

He should be hard.

But he wasn't, and she was noticing.

"You been drinking or something, Petyr?" Myranda asked as she slipped her hand inside his trousers to feel him properly.

His body didn't react in the slightest to her touches.

"Just… tired." He lied. Well, it wasn't a lie… he hadn't slept for over a week; since Sansa left and refused to answer her cell phone. But tiredness wasn't the reason he couldn't perform.

"Well _ wake up!" _ She snapped, licking her hand and working it furiously on him. It was no use.

"Myranda…" He started, about to tell her not to bother, but she unclasped his belt and ripped both his pants and briefs down to his knees in one motion.

He nearly rolled his eyes.

"My mouth will do it." She said, with no room for objection.

He sighed, irritated and in need of her to leave. "Myranda just…"

She licked him from base to tip before sucking on the head. It felt good, of course, but he was no longer in the mood and _ clearly _ his cock wasn't either.

"Please stop." He said sternly, pushing her face away from him. He tried to tuck himself away but she wouldn't stop trying. _ "Myranda!" _ He growled and she glared at him.

"Petyr we haven't fucked in months!" She shot back, frowning. "Why aren't you horny?"

"I am! I just…" He sighed, feeling like an asshole. "I was thinking about someone else. I'm sorry."

She scoffed in disbelief, immediately pulling her clothes back on. "Fuck you, Petyr. You called _ me _, you know."

He had. He called her. He was horny and in need of sex. It had been months. It didn't seem to matter when he was pursuing Sansa, but now that she had stopped answering any attempt of his to reach her… He just wanted to forget about her for _ one second. _ Because she was a constant replay on his mind and it was driving him insane.

"Myranda!" He called before she left.

He didn't want to be _ that _ asshole anymore.

He stood and approached her.

"Look… I'm sorry, truly." He said genuinely. Her eyes flashed with pain for a moment. He reached for her arm and squeezed comfortingly. "I… I want to right my wrongs. I've wronged you. I've been an asshole to you." He sighed. She looked surprised. Could he blame her? Hell, _ he _ was surprised.

"You've just… always been sex to me. And I'm sorry, I wish you were more. It would make my life easier and I wouldn't feel like such a dick right now if I actually held affection for you. But the truth is that I don't. The truth is that my heart has been in the same place for over three and a half years." He admitted, feeling an empty, cold feeling shiver down his spine and circle into the pit of his stomach.

Her eyes were wide as she listened. She didn't say anything in response and instead, slowly wrapped her arms around his neck. She hugged him tightly and he had never felt so grateful towards a kind act before in his life.

"Take care of yourself, Petyr. I hope you get her." She said before smiling gently and leaving.

He fell apart that night for the first time since she told him he didn't have a chance.

* * *

It was time.

Petyr knew what he needed, and that was advice from the one man who's always had his back ever since he was a boy.

He gripped the leather of his steering wheel tightly, knuckles turning white. He had been parked in the lot for at least twenty minutes now. He had a meeting in an hour so he knew he was wasting away his time sitting here, but he hadn't seen him for, _ gosh, _ two years?

Petyr had visited him once after him and Sansa split, but it was too hard for Petyr to come back because he kept asking about his _ lovely lady. _

That's the problem with having a father suffering from alzheimer's disease.

He has been this way since Petyr was a young man. His father had been over the moon when he met Sansa… 6 times, before he remembered her. It had broken his heart so much to have to explain what happened over and over that he hadn't visited him since that one time after they split.

Finally, he found the courage to leave his car and enter the building.

"Mr Baelish!"

Petyr spun around while he was walking through the halls, thinking someone was calling him, but all he saw was his father harassing his nurse.

He stood for a moment to watch the scene before him.

"I tell you every day not to smack my ass and every day you do it!" The young lady was clearly fed up with her patient and stopped trying to fix his shirt to push his wheelchair.

Petyr smirked in amusement.

"I don't get paid enough for this." She mumbled under her breath as she approached Petyr.

He hadn't recognized his son yet and Petyr wondered how bad he'd gotten. Or if it's just because Petyr has neglected seeing him for such a long time.

"Sir?" The nurse questioned, stopping in front of him. He smiled gently, offering his hand.

"Ah, Petyr… _ Baelish." _ He introduced himself and her eyes widened slightly, clearly embarrassed about what he had just witnessed. "Thanks for… putting up with my dad all this time."

"Oh!" She exclaimed, smiling, laughing. "Yes, yes, he's been… he's very sweet. You caught him on a good day."

Petyr smirked in amusement. "I can take it from here, miss." He said, relieving her. She smiled gratefully and allowed Petyr to push his father down the hall to his bedroom.

"No! Outside." His father grumpily complained when they got to his room.

"It's cold outside, dad." Petyr replied, but his father wasn't listening. "Fine." Petyr sighed, giving up. Trying to argue was always futile with him.

He pushed his father silently down the hall and put the front door. He pushed him down the path until they reached an old oak tree and he locked the wheelchair so it didn't roll down the slight slope. He sat down beside his father on a wooden bench, but turned his body to face him.

"Dad." Petyr called, trying to get his attention. He started off in the distance. "Dad!" He said a little louder and his father jumped slightly, turning towards his son with raised eyebrows.

"Petyr!" He exclaimed. Good. At least he recognized him now. "Oh Petyr, you're back from your trip! How did she like Paris?"

Petyr cringed. Him and Sansa had taken a trip to France before they split. It was his father's idea to surprise her with the trip.

He swallowed thickly. "It was good, dad. She loved it." His voice was bitter and sad.

Loved it, she did. She ate everything in sight… _ especially _the lemon pastries.

And they fucked every night, morning and basically every moment they spent in their hotel room. It was _ glorious. _ She was so _ grateful, _which of course made her very generous in the bedroom.

But her non stop smile the entire week was the best part for Petyr. He loved making her happy. It was all he wanted.

Petyr shook his head in an attempt to clear it.

"I'm so glad you found her, son." He said and Petyr's heart throbbed with pain. Maybe this was a mistake.

"Dad… I need to talk to you about something. You're going to be confused, but I need you to push past that…" He paused, sighing. "Because I really need you to tell me what to do."

Petyr's father detected the seriousness of his tone and leaned in close to show he was listening. He nodded slowly, so Petyr continued.

"Dad, I lost her. She left me." He looked down at his hands, fidgeting. "We… are friends, I guess. But she's told me that there will never be a chance for us again." He looked back up at his dad, who had a deep frown across his face. "Dad, I love her so much. I don't know what to do without her. I'm like… _ numb _ without her."

It felt good to tell someone this. To let it out to someone he knows cares, even if he won't remember it the next time he visits.

"What about the ring?"

Petyr felt a lump in his throat.

That. Dammed. Ring.

Petyr had shown it to his father the second he bought it. Gods, he was so proud.

Petyr's face fell into his hands. How did this get so fucked up?

"Son," his father's deep baritone drifted through the air. A warm hand rested heavily on his shoulder and Petyr finally looked up. "You fucked it up?" He asked. It wasn't accusing in any way, simply curious.

"Yes." Petyr told him, looking down in shame. "I tried to fix it. I've _ been _ trying to fix it… but she's with someone else now."

His father held up his hands to stop his rambling. He reached up to adjust his glasses with shaky, veiny hands. He had a full head of hair still, but it had silvered fully. The last Petyr had seen him, there were still flecks of black but it was all silver now.

"Unfuck it." He said simply and Petyr frowned, smiling in amusement.

"What?" He asked, shaking his head as he chuckled.

He shrugged, "_ un _fuck it." He repeated, as if he made perfect sense.

Petyr laughed and soon his father joined in. They laughed for long moments... so hard in fact that his father had a small coughing fit afterwards.

They were quiet for a minute as they caught their breath. It was nice to talk to him again. Really nice, in fact.

"Petyr." The man with salt and pepper hair looked over at his father, who had gone serious again. "I've known you longer than anyone. I know you _ better _ than anyone… even if I forget I have a son sometimes…" They both smiled. He patted his son's hand affectionately before he continued. "When you were with her… you were about as happy as you were when you were six and I bought you that german shepherd. You two looked _ almost _as in love as you and that dog did."

Petyr smiled in amusement as he listened to his father. He _ did _ love that dog.

_"So…_ _unfuck_ it." He paused. "Keep trying to fix it as long as she'll let you near her. You said you are friends, right?" Petyr nodded. "Then _be her friend._ That's what she needs you for right now. When she's ready for more, you'll know. Don't push her." He paused, barking a laugh. "And don't you worry about Harold, son… she won't be staying with him."

Petyr's head snapped up. _ "What!?" _ He asked. "How do you know that name?" A thought entered his mind. "Has Sansa been visiting you?" He questioned.

His father's eyebrows shot up, as if he realized why that information would interest his son. His smile widened. "Ah, yes. Lovely little bird, she is."

"Dad! Why didn't you tell me sooner?" He asked in disbelief.

He rose his hands in defense. "I forgot until you just asked!" He exclaimed and Petyr scoffed in amusement once again.

"How often does she visit? What do you two talk about?" Question after question racked his brain all at once. _ What does that mean!? _

"Son, you need to slow down the questions!" He yelled out.

He spotted the small birds that had been pecking around his feet this whole time and reached into his pocket. Petyr was surprised when he pulled out a small handful of bird seed and flung it into the ground. He smiled as he watched the birds fight over it.

"Dad?" He reminded him and he looked over at him. His expression was blank for a moment.

"Petyr? Where's Sansa? You two never visit together anymore." He replied and Petyr sighed.

"Dad. When Sansa visits, what does she talk about?" He asked sternly, knowing his dad was getting tired.

"Hm." He hummed, tilting his head to the side as he pondered the question. "We play chess, mostly. She talks about memories that I don't remember and… books that she thinks I'll like." He paused to take a few breaths. "She asks about you."

"How?" He instantly asked and his father grumbled something in return.

"Damned if I remember!" He yelled, clearly not liking the pressure Petyr was putting on him. Petyr leaned back, sighing.

"I'm sorry, dad." He apologized.

They were silent for a few long moments. Petyr looked at his watch. He'd have to get going soon. A part of him dreaded leaving; it was nice seeing his father.

"What kind of name is _ Harold _anyway?"

Petyr turned to him again. He knew he couldn't push so unstead, he sat and listened. _ What has she told him, assuming it would stay in private because of his disease? _

"Can you believe that she stays with him? After what he did that night?"

Petyr's eyes narrowed.

"I don't care _ how _ drunk he was."

Petyr's heart was hammering against his ribcage.

"It disgusts me that she thinks she's she doesn't deserve better."

Petyr looked down at that, feeling the shame spread through his bones. Had he done that? Made her feel like she deserves someone like that? Petyr felt sick.

"You'll talk some sense into her, won't you?" He asked and Petyr snapped out of his thoughts. He cleared his throat quietly.

"Yes, dad."

A cigarette. Now.

Petyr reached into his jacket and pulled out the little stick, lighting it hastily and breathing in deeply.

"I'll have one, too." His father stuck out his hand for a cigarette. Petyr scoffed.

"You're not supposed to smoke, dad. It'll kill you faster." He said, flicking the ash from the end of his cigarette.

He grunted. "We're all dying! At least a smoke will numb the pain a little. Now give me a _ damn cigarette, _ boy!"

Petyr's eyebrows rose in surprise, a slight smirk gracing his lips. He shrugged, handing his partly-smoked dart over to his father, who greedily breathed in the chemicals.

"So..." He let out a puff of smoke. "When are you planning on proposing?"

Petyr chuckled, shaking his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Absentee: a person who has disappeared or whose whereabouts are unknown.
> 
> No Petyr/Sansa interactions!! Sorrrry!
> 
> But his father was a sweetheart, wasn't he?
> 
> And I know most people hate every kind of version of Myranda, including myself, BUT if you think about it from her perspective... Petyr HAS been as asshole to her. Especially if she grew real feelings for him.
> 
> She IS out of the story now, though (thank god) because I can only take so muchhh!


	6. Breach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dark chapter, guys. This story is taking a turn.
> 
> Prepare yourselves.
> 
> Make sure you're okay with all tags.

_ Unfuck it. _

Petyr shook his head in amusement as he put his car in park.

_ Thanks for the steller advice, dad. _

He unbuckled his seatbelt and sighed, chewing anxiously on his bottom lip. He felt _ off _ for some reason; some strange, instinctive reason… or perhaps it was just his nerves. He left his car and approached the house. He noticed Harry's truck wasn't there and he was thankful for that.

_ Maybe I should have a smoke. Calm down a bit. _

He continued to chew at his bottom lip as he contemplated it.

_ No, just knock you idiot. _

He sighed in frustration and finally knocked on her door. _ Gods this was stupid. _

He waited a moment but no one answered.

He frowned, turning to look at the white Kia in the driveway… he knew it was her car. Did she go out with her fiance, perhaps?

He sighed, turning away and getting in his car again.

His body felt on edge and he couldn't seem to shake the feeling. He pulled out his phone and found her name in his contact list. Called her. It rang and rang and rang but she didn't answer.

Petyr frowned, pursing his lips as he placed his phone down again.

He should leave.

It wasn't uncommon for her to ignore his calls… so why did he have this horrible feeling? It was gnawing away at him little by little the longer he sat there.

This was ridiculous. He was being ridiculous. Maybe Harry came around on the idea of a baby and the two of them are out picking a mobile for the crib.

She's fine. Stop worrying.

He started the engine and put his car in reverse. The second that the gear shifted into place, Petyr felt his stomach lurch, as if he were about to go down a terrifyingly steep roller coaster.

Little did he know that was exactly what was about to happen.

_ Okay, _ Petyr thought with finality as he put his car in park again, _ enough is enough. I'll knock once more and then I'll leave. _

He got out again, leaving the car running. He walked across the gravel stone once more and knocked again on the door.

As he waited, a small bouquet of flowers that had clearly been tossed outside, caught his eye. They must be days old as the pedals were already starting to shrivel and darken: dying.

It had been long enough. No one had answered.

He sighed deeply, still feeling unsure as he made to turn away.

That's when he heard it… rustling from inside. A struggle. Then, Petyr's heart skipped a beat, he heard a crash from inside… like a vase or some other form of glass breaking. Perhaps it was the very same vase that once held those decaying flowers that were tossed aside and forgotten so easily.

He immediately twisted the handle but the door was locked.

She screamed, then, but it was muffled.

Petyr felt his heart pump wildly against his rib cage and his blood went cold. A dozen emotions flashed through him at once: panic, worry, anger, _ fear. _ The main, most insistent emotion he felt was fear. _ Plain, raging fear. _ It coursed through him like adrenaline… like a drug; like the very blood that currently raced through his veins.

He pounded hard on the door. "SANSA!" He yelled desperately, trying the handle again. He was met with silence, but he knew something was wrong. He could feel the hairs standing on the back of his neck. A lump the size of a tennis ball was forming in his throat.

He looked around, spotting a black Ram truck parked on the road across the street from where he stood. He didn't recognize the vehicle, but knew somehow that it had significance. Someone was in there with her and that someone drove that truck.

He heard another muffled sound and it immediately snapped him back to reality. She was being hurt, he could _ feel _ it.

He needed to get in there. He contemplated trying to knock the door off its hinges, but then told himself not to think with his heart. Don't be rash, be logical. Petyr knew he wasn't a large, muscular man, and even if he got the door down somehow… he'd need to be able to protect her from whoever was inside and he wouldn't be able to with a dislocated shoulder.

He walked around the side of the house, looking for an open window before he stopped at the glass sliding side door. It was locked, but when he looked up to see into her house, he felt his body freeze and his heart stop.

There was blood.

Three fingers had dragged down the glass door, leaving behind _ blood. _

_ Her _ blood.

He looked behind the glass, behind the blood, and he felt his stomach lurch.

_ So much blood. _

There were two bodies in the kitchen laying on the tiles. One was hers, and the body straddling hers belonged to a dark haired man with a vile smirk, his locks curling over his forehead.

Petyr's hands balled into fists: he was _ hitting her _.

Her face was swollen, bruises already forming. Petyr couldn't see much because of the blood seeping from seemingly _ everywhere: _nose, mouth, the one ear that he could see from this angle.

Petyr's body moved before he even registered, fist slamming hard on the glass. Both figures turned to him.

_ What now!? _

The man grinned, showing off his teeth, before using them on her neck. Sansa squirmed and hollered in pain.

Petyr felt his stomach bottom out when a hand closed around Sansa's throat and squeezed until her eyes grew wide. Another hand unclasped his belt and then started pulling up her dress.

Again, Petyr's body moved without any thought at all.

He punched the glass, _ hard. _ A shooting pain started in his knuckles and then travelled up the length of his arm, but he hardly felt it. The pain of watching this man hurt Sansa was far worse. Far more excruciating.

Another punch, this time followed by a sickening crack. He had definitely broken a bone. Possibly multiple bones.

But it didn't matter, for the man had dragged her underwear off her thin, kicking legs.

Again, his fist collided with the glass door and this time a small spider web of cracks had appeared. He felt something else, hope perhaps, course through him; determination, adrenaline.

Practically, he could have found a rock in the backyard... he could have used his foot to kick at the glass... he could have found a number of hard objects to hit the door with... could have used his cell phone, even... but he didn't have room in his mind to think of anything but _getting through the door. Getting to her._ His anger and desperation was too strong to think rationally after seeing Sansa in pain.

Again he punched and this time blood was left on the glass. He punched again, the glass slowly breaking, and the blood dripping down. He didn't even _ feel _ it. Again and again until finally, _ finally, _the glass shattered enough for him to slip his hand through and he reached inside to find the lock. Glass was cutting his skin from wrist to elbow. His hand was a mangled mess mixed with broken bone, shards of glass and blood.

He pushed open the door as the man settled on top of Sansa, her face almost purple because of the lack of oxygen. The man realized Petyr had broken in and scrambled to reach for his gun, quickly tucking his cock away again.

Rage burned through Petyr. It was all he could feel in the moment. Just blinding, searing rage.

Before he could point the gun and shoot, Petyr's body collided with his. He heard the man beneath him slam his head against the tile and wasn't surprised when he withdrew his face to see blood smeared from the back of his head. _ Good. _

Petyr used his left hand to hold down the other man's right… to hold down the gun as he lifted his broken hand and curled his fingers tightly into a fist. Petyr winced at the pain as his fist connected with this man's face. A loud _ crunch _ resonated after the second punch and Petyr wasn't entirely sure if it was his own hand or the man's face. Perhaps both.

Blood started to rapidly gush from his nose. Petyr's next punch split his lip in two and blood leaked from that as well.

Petyr was too caught up in causing this man as much _ pain _ as possible to notice that he'd let go of the hand holding the gun to hold his head in place as he beat it senseless. That is until it fired and the shot rang loud through the room. A burning pain followed, shooting straight through his abdomen.

He gasped loudly, fist freezing in the air. It was like nothing he'd ever felt before. The man beneath him used this to his advantage and rolled them over, giving Petyr a few solid punches to the face.

When he moved away from him, Petyr's head dropped to the side to spit blood across the tiles. The pain throbbing in his abdomen was the most intense, physical pain he'd ever experienced. His hand, the one not mangled, reached down to touch the burning area. He recoiled from his own hand, shocked at the amount of pain that shot through his body. His fingers were covered in sticky blood.

He heard Sansa whimper and he looked over, forcing his blurring eyesight to focus on the figures before him. He was on top of Sansa again but his cock, thankfully, was away this time. His hands were around her neck again. Squeezing, _ squeezing, _so tightly. She cried and scratched her nails deeply into his hands.

_ "Sansa…" _Petyr choked out, reaching helplessly towards her.

One hand found the gun shot wound, cradling it to slow the bleeding, while the other helped his body push himself into a sitting position. His head spun sickly but he knew he needed to stand. He needed to get to her. Needed to help her.

A wave of pain came over him as he stood, closing his eyes briefly to control the sudden and overwhelming urge to either blackout or puke… or both.

_ Sansa _.

Petyr took a step forward, but slipped on some blood coating the tiled floor. Blood… his? Hers? it was a dark, twisted sort of slip n' slide.

He balanced himself, spotting a blender not far on the counter. He reached for it, slipping again before grabbing a hold of the glass handle and pulling it back to hold it against his chest. The glass was thick, maybe an inch… tough and solid.

_ It'll do. _

He lifted it, pausing for a moment, before he let it come crashing down on the man's head. A loud thump resounded as a result and the man immediately slumped to the side, away from an unconscious Sansa… or -his chest tightened- a _ dead _ Sansa.

Petyr followed him, shoving a knee into his gut as he raised the blender for the second time and then brought it down hard on his face. A crunch sounded this time, followed by blood squirting onto his shirt; his previously white button up.

_ He hurt her. _

Another hit with the blender.

_ He was about to rape her. _

Another, blood seeping from the one eye socket that still remained open.

_ He strangled her. _

Another, harder this time.

_ She might be dead. _

Two more in a row, blood splattering up onto his face now.

_ She is pregnant. _

His hand throbbed as Petyr clenched his teeth. If it weren't for the adrenaline and shear _ fear _ controlling his body right now… he'd be lying beside both bodies in too much pain to move. His whole body felt wet from blood. All of their blood. So much blood.

Another.

Petyr could taste this man's irony blood now. It was on his lips... on his tongue while he gasped for air, continuing to strike this man.

He was dead, long dead.

His body twitched beneath him at every attack, but he was dead. His face was smashed in, unrecognizable to the handsome young man he used to be.

Another.

Petyr lost his grip on the blender and sent it smashing to the floor, breaking into pieces. He fell forward onto his hands, feeling his stomach lurch again at the sight of what he'd done.

Practically, he could have just hit him once or twice to ensure he was not waking up anytime soon. He could have done that, but he hadn't. He hadn't because this _ bastard _didn't deserve to breathe the same oxygen as Sansa. He didn't deserve to live in a world at the same time as her. Petyr wanted him dead. Petyr wanted to kill him.

He didn't feel guilty for taking his life in such a savage way, no. He deserved it.

But he did feel sick at the sight of it.

Bone meshed with blood meshed with skin in replacement of a face.

Petyr closed his eyes. Took a steadying breath. Opened them again.

_ Sansa. _

He crawled over to her, adrenaline wearing out and pain seeping in. He groaned as he clutched his stomach, blood oozing steadily through the cracks in his fingers.

_ Is she alive? _

He reached her, bruised and bloody, and stroked his hand delicately along the side of her face.

_ My sweet Sansa. _

Her pulse… he brought his fingers down to her swollen throat, trying to find a pulse but failing. He then brought his head down to her chest and pressed his ear against her. He listened.

It was so quiet, so faint, but it was there.

_ Thump thump. Thump thump. _

He sighed in relief, leaning back against the cupboards as he pulled her into his lap. Her body was curled into him and he held her like that.

_ Thump thump. Thump thump. _

He knew he needed to call the police. Call for help… but he couldn't find the strength. So he just held her, wishing for a miracle.

_ Thump thump. Thump thump. _

He repeated the sound in his head. It was proof she was alive. That barely audible heartbeat was proof that beneath this bruised and bloody body… Sansa still lived.

_ Thump thump. Thump thump. _

The miracle Petyr had wished for, happened to be someone he never expected… someone he never thought he'd pray to the gods for.

He heard a key turning the lock of the front door. Footsteps. A pause. A gasp. Something falling to the floor. Fast footsteps. Someone pausing again. Someone retching.

"SANSA!"

Harry Hardyng wiped vomit from his chin.

Petyr squinted to try and look at him better through half lidded eyes. It seemed to be a struggle to keep them open at all.

"What HAPPENED!?" He yelled, dropping to his knees to see to his fiance.

"911." Petyr said quietly and Harry, thank god, happened to hear him. He pulled out his phone immediately and dialled.

As he spoke to the person on the other end, Petyr looked back down at the woman in his arms. So very broken she looked.

He stroked her face again, brushing her blood-crusted hair back and rubbing his thumb along her cheek bone, which was black from a fresh bruise.

Petyr frowned slightly in confusion when water started to drip onto her face. He rubbed at it, only causing it to smear the drying blood even more. But it kept dripping onto her, and soon it became hard for him to see properly.

Eventually he got frustrated, groaning out loud as Harry hung up the phone. "Where is all this fucking _ water _ coming from!" He demanded, gritting his teeth in annoyance.

"Uh… Petyr…" The other man started as he stared at him. "You… you're crying."

Petyr's head snapped up to stare at him accusingly until he wiped at his own face, only to realize he was telling the truth. He was crying, tears dripping freely, carelessly, without him even noticing.

He gave in, then. The sob raked through his body as he held her closer. It was clear that Harry wanted to take Sansa from his arms but he didn't attempt to, probably seeing what Petyr had done to the man lying dead beside them. Plus it was clear Petyr wasn't a threat to his fiance; he was holding her with equal protectiveness as a lion would it's cub.

Harry settled on placing his hand gently to the side of her face.

He took a moment to look her over.

Her one eye was swollen shut and a few drops of dried blood had seeped from it. Her nose was still bleeding, slowly however, onto his black dress pants. Her lips were parted, top lip split and bleeding into her mouth, before leaking out the corner again; or maybe that blood was from a different source inside her body? Maybe she had blood in her lungs.

Her beautiful face adorned many gashes, scratches and cuts. The worst being on the top left of her forehead where it was clear she'd need stitches.

His eyes travelled down her jaw to her neck. He had bitten her earlier, which Petyr unfortunately witnessed through the glass door, and the proof of it lay in the teeth marks pressed deeply into her skin. Her entire neck was red and purple… the beginnings of a giant bruise forming… Petyr just hoped the man hadn't broken it.

Her hands were covered in blood, nails held bits of both skin and blood… both _ his _ DNA.

He placed his palm flat against her cheek. He leaned down, placed one… two, three kisses to her forehead. _ "Sansa, please. Please don't… don't leave me. Please, sweetling. Please."_

It was as if Harry wasn't even there. It was just them. And he just held her.

He was too scared to close his eyes. Terrified that if he closed them for even a second... she'd disappear forever. She'd die in his arms. He couldn't let go and he couldn't pass out.

"Sansa I love you so much." He whispered in her ear, not giving a damn whether Harry heard him or not. "I'm so in love with you."

He rested his hand over her chest, her heart, but he felt nothing. No beat, no life.

"Please," his voice broke.

_"Come back to me, my love."_

_"Come back to me."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Breach: a violation or infraction of the law.
> 
> Deep breaths.


	7. Bond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter today for you guys! Because I love you and because I left you with that super depressing chapter earlier... not that this one is much better.
> 
> It's a bumpy road, guys.
> 
> There was one particular scene I wanted to happen in this chapter and I figured it would take up most of it... but I didn't even get to it yet! So that'll have to be next chapter. So, apologies that I am extending this painful time in their lives... and although there's something big (and not good) that happens next chapter, I hope to get to some light fluffy stuff, maybe, too?

_ Her hair burned in the morning sunlight. Petyr laid beside her, head propped up with one hand as the other fondled a piece of that coppery heaven between his two fingers. _

_ It burned brightly, fiercely, beautifully. _

_ He admired her for long minutes. He would never get enough of this. _

_ That ivory skin. Those eyes. Those long, long legs- _

_ "It's rude to stare." She complained without opening her eyes. Petyr smiled to himself. _

_ "I was gazing. It's romantic." He argued, running a knuckled down her cheek as her bright blues fluttered open to playfully glare at him. _

_ "It's creepy." She countered, smirking after a moment. He chuckled. _

_ "I'm allowed to be creepy to you." He told her, shifting closer to press his body against hers. She looked down at their joined bodies and then rose an eyebrow at him, clearly feeling his morning eagerness. Petyr just smirked in return, daring her to deny him. _

_ She began shaking her head in response to his comment, but he immediately sprung into action. He rolled atop her and pinned her hands down with one of his, tickling her ribcage with the other. She gasped loudly and squirmed as she giggled endlessly. _

_ "Tell me you love me." He demanded with a wide smile. She laughed harder, gulping for oxygen whenever she could, but his fingers were relentless. _

_ "Petyr, stop!" She screamed in between fits of laughter. "Please, Petyr, please!" _

_ "Do you love me, Sansa?" He continued, shaking his head at her stubbornness. "Tell me and I'll stop." _

_ She shook her head defiantly and he narrowed his eyes on her, letting go of her hands now to assault her ticklish spots with both of his. She squirmed harder and thrashed her fists against his chest, kicking her feet helplessly. _

_ "You're so stubborn, my little lioness." He teased. He loved calling her that. His fierce auburn haired lioness. _

_ He moved a hand down to tickle her thigh, which he knew was her worst spot. Her eyes widened immediately and she screamed. _

_ "I love you, Petyr! I love you, okay?" She said in a rush to get the words out as quickly as possible. "I love you so much! I'm so in love with you! Just stop, stop, stop!" _

_ He stopped then, attacking her mouth with kisses. She giggled, kissing him back. The happiness he felt in that moment compared to no other. He would love her fiercely for as long as he lives. _

_ "I love you too, sweetling." He purred back, a cheeky grin on his face. She rolled her eyes, pulling him down by the neck to kiss him again. _

* * *

Petyr jolted awake, sitting up.

"Sir, you have to sit back. You have to calm down." Some lady -a doctor by the looks of it- told him sternly, pushing down on his chest to get him on his back again.

"Sansa." He rasped, looking around him. He was in a large room with multiple beds and doctors rushing madly around him. It must be an emergency room.

"Move him into the trauma room!" Someone shouted on the other side of the bed.

It all felt like a blur to him. It felt like he was hearing everything from under a foot of water. And his vision felt slower; when he tried to look around, it felt as if it took several long seconds just to move his eyes from one side of their sockets to the other. His body felt heavy, too.

Suddenly the doctors and nurses around him were rolling his bed into a far smaller room. As the door opened across from his room, he spotted Sansa.

He made to sit up again but was forced down.

"Don't make me restrain you." The doctor warned, helping someone else rip open his shirt to tend to the gunshot wound.

"Please," he said again, voice husky. "Sansa."

The man to his right was tending to his mangled hand. Petyr just about puked from the sight of it. He grabbed the doctor's hand with his left one and he stopped momentarily to look up at him.

"Your wife is being taken care of as we speak, sir. She's in the finest hands, I assure you. But right now we need to take care of you." He told Petyr, shrugging off his hand before continuing his examine.

_ She's not my wife. _ He thought, head spinning violently.

He groaned in pain as the female doctor began to dislodge the bullet from his abdomen.

"I need you to stop moving, sir."

_ I will when you stop sticking needles and tweezers inside me. _

Petyr forced his body to calm.

Sansa's alive, that's  _ all _ that matters.

The burning pain from his abdomen got to an unbearable level and he groaned loudly, feeling the doctor poke around in an attempt to get a grip on the bullet. Finally she did (thank god, because Petyr could barely stand another second of it) and she pulled it from his body. Petyr sighed, his body relaxing partially.

Only now the doctors seemed to look more panicked as they threw cloth after cloth on top of him to stop the bleeding. He looked down, seeing a steady stream of blood coating both his stomach and the floor.

_ A dark, twisted sort of slip 'n slide. _

How was it that he had that same thought twice in one day? How fucked was that?

Soon the doctors got the bleeding under control and the female doctor began stitching him up.

He could hear the machine beside him beeping, letting him and all the doctors in the room know his heart was still beating. The rest of the room was in chaos. There were 4… 5? Doctors treating him, two working on his hand, one stitching the gunshot wound, one stitching up a cut beneath his eye and another running around grabbing things. He felt stressed just watching them.

They kept calling out things he didn't understand and he had to go off of their expressions and tones to figure out if something was wrong or not.

"What's your name, sir?" The one standing over him, asked.

"Petyr Baelish." He said, wincing from a sharp pain in his hand when one of the doctors poked at it.

"Is he dead?" Petyr heard himself ask.

The same doctor answered him. "Is who dead?"

Petyr swallowed thickly, eyes moving to the window. He looked past the open blinds to see Sansa being rolled away. He felt anger again.

"The man who did that to her. Is he dead?" Petyr explained. He could feel, and hear, his heart rate increasing. What was happening? He could feel something coming on… like a panic attack or something. But that didn't matter right now… he needed to know this.

"The only injured patients we received were you and the woman." The doctor replied, finishing the suture and wiping his face to clean the blood from it.

_Good, so he's_ _dead then._

"I need to know how she is." He tried to stand once more, resulting in another failed attempt.

"Stay  _ down. _ " The female doctor growled.

Petyr's heart was pounding madly. He needed to see her. He needed to know. He needed to help.

"Oh no, no, no!" One of them exclaimed, watching Petyr's eyes roll back into his head. "I'm going to need a crash cart in here!" Someone yelled.

Then everything went black again.

* * *

Petyr winced.

Pain was the first thing he felt: from the wound in his abdomen to the bruises surely surfacing on his face, to his hand, which was the worst of all of it.

He felt his body wakening again, his eyes opening.

"Petyr?"

For a second he heard  _ her _ voice. He must have imagined it though,  for she wasn't the curly blond haired man sitting at his bedside.

"I'm glad you're awake." He told him, moving to press the call button beside his head.

Petyr tried to talk,  _ ask how she is, _ but only just realized there was a tube in his mouth. He reached his hand up and noticed it was all bandaged up in a thick cast that covered the entirety of his hand and wrist.

Why wasn't Harold saying anything? If it was good news why wouldn't he tell him right away?  _ But, _ Petyr thought,  _ if it was good news he would be at her bedside and not his, wouldn't he? _

A nurse came rushing in, quickly examining him before extracting the tube from his mouth. He grimaced as she did so. "Mr Baelish… I'm glad to see you awake." The nurse, a dark haired woman, told him. "We had to restart your heart and your hand was in pretty rough shape but your doctors fixed it up. You'll have to wear the cast for a couple of mo-"

"Sansa." He choked out of his dry, raw throat. He didn't give a shit about anything she was saying.

Harry piped up. "She's okay."

_ Thank the gods. Thank everyone. Thank you, thank you. _

"She's in the ICU right now. She got out of surgery a couple hours after you did. I'm not allowed to see her yet." He explained. Petyr nodded. "She's alive, but she hasn't woken up yet."

Petyr turned to the nurse. "But she will." Petyr half stated, half asked.

The nurse shifted uncomfortably and Petyr felt his stomach drop. "She's…" she sighed deeply. "The next few hours are crucial. If she gets through the night… she's got a very good chance of waking the following day."

She might die. Or never wake up. Petyr closed his eyes tightly for a moment.

"If I would have gotten to her sooner..." He started, shaking his head at himself.

"You saved her life, Mr Baelish. She would be dead right now if it weren't for you." The nurse said sternly before patting him on the shoulder, and leaving.

Petyr licked his dry lips before reaching for the cup of water at his bedside table and drinking it all. It was a private room he was in, a bathroom in the opposite corner from his bed. Machines were to his right and an IV bag to his left, which was attached to his arm. The sheets were a light blue, the walls a pale cream colour. It even smelled like a hospital. All of it gave Petyr an uneasy feeling. This place felt like death.

"Thank you, Petyr." Harry said quietly. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't-" Harry trailed off, biting down on his lip.  _ Him and Sansa both, would be dead if it weren't for Harry, too.  _ "He's dead, you know. That man. I think his name was Ramsay."

Petyr nodded. That's right… the same man she stabbed in an alleyway all those months ago. Back when she wanted him in her life again.

As if on cue, two police officers stepped into the room. "We'd like to ask you some questions, Petyr, if you're feeling up to it."

Petyr nodded and Harry stood, giving him a reassuring smile before leaving. The officers stepped in and came to stand beside him. Petyr slowly sat up, painfully too.

"Tell us, from the beginning, what happened."

* * *

Petyr knew, as an attorney himself, that he wasn't in any trouble. He was acting in the defense of another, and the evidence of that lay in Sansa's injuries and the DNA he left all over her body. Teeth marks, his skin and blood under her fingernails, fingerprints and a dozen other things that can be used to prosecute him.

He didn't need the officers to tell him as much because of course, he knew these things, but it certainly helped him feel better when they did.

It had been two hours and Petyr made Harry go back and forth between his room and asking the nurses to check up on her every twenty minutes. They hated the two of them, surely, but Petyr didn't care. If it wasn't for Harry reasoning with his senses… he'd ask every 2 minutes, because that's about how long it takes before he begins to panic all over again that she's dying on him. That's about how long it takes before he needs reassurance again.

"You killed him pretty brutally." Harry spoke up after about ten minutes of silence. Petyr turned to him, the green jello dancing on his spoon right in front of his mouth. He placed the horrid excuse for food on the bed beside him.

"You don't know what it was like." Petyr started, putting the spoon down. "To see him hitting her.  _ Beating  _ her, strangling her. He was about to rape her." Petyr paused, the emotional pain of what he'd just experienced came rushing back to him through the pictures forming in his mind. "You don't know what it was like to watch him slowly kill her."

Harry swallowed thickly, Petyr watched his Adam's apple bob with the effort. "I'm glad it was you." He told him, looking down seemingly in shame. "I don't think I'd have had the courage to do that. To kill him. To punch through glass with a shattered hand."

Petyr looked away.

_ It's because I love her the way she deserves to be loved. It's because… if Ramsay took her from me… he'd have been taking my entire world. Everything that matters is her. _

Petyr clenched his jaw tightly, willing himself to keep his mouth shut because he knew exactly what would come out of it if he didn't. But he couldn't do this anymore. Pretending not to love her was the most tiring thing he's ever had to do. Because that love consumed him completely and it was all he felt and all he thought about. It's been hard to look at her in his presence and pretend he wasn't looking at the love of his life.

"I didn't think twice about it." Petyr stated, hating himself for not being able to restrain from telling Harold the truth, but also feeling relieved that he didn't need to pretend any longer.

Harry was watching him closely, seemingly understanding that what Petyr was about to say was serious and important.

"I'm in love with her, Harry."

He blinked slowly, obtaining the information he just gave him.

"You… what?"

_ Fucking idiot. _

"I'm in  _ love _ with her." He repeated. "She is the only thing that matters to me. So when I saw that man hurting her… I didn't think twice about the things I did." He paused, chest heaving slightly with overwhelming emotion. "I killed him because I  _ wanted _ to. Because he didn't  _ deserve  _ to live in the same world as Sansa. I broke through that glass with my bare fist because I  _ needed  _ to. The pain was insignificant." Harry was frowning in confusion.  _ How is this really a surprise!? _ "I have never in my life been as scared as I was when I was holding her limp, bloody body. I would've given  _ anything _ to trade places with her in that moment, and I still would." He swallowed down the emotion building in his throat.  _ "That's  _ how I found the courage to do those things. Because I  _ love _ her." He paused again to deliver the ultimate blow. "The way that  _ you _ should love her."

It wasn't meant to hurt him… but it was meant to make him understand.

Harold was silent, shocked. His eyes shot from one side to the other as he digested all of that.

Whatever kind of angry insult or accusation that Petyr thought Harry would spew… it wasn't what he got.

The man beside him slumped his shoulders. "You love her more than I do. That's what you're saying?"

Petyr's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Yes." He confirmed. "I love her how she deserves to be loved."

Harry sat there for a long moment, quiet, thinking. "I need to tell you something." He started… voice full of shame. "I was really drunk one night, just under a year ago. I had had a very bad day, and I know that's no excuse but-" he sighed.

"What did you do?" Petyr asked slowly.

"We were fighting. It got out of hand and… I pushed her." He paused, looking slightly scared to see what Petyr would do to him. "I pushed her hard. I don't know why… I wasn't thinking. She had to go to the hospital and everything. She sprained her wrist." He closed his eyes, obviously struggling to retell the story.

They were both quiet for a long time. Petyr didn't say or do anything because of how bad Harry clearly felt about what he did. It must have been minutes that they sat there looking at each other. So long in fact that the nurse came back to check in on Petyr again.

"I hurt her too." Petyr admitted quietly. "Not physically, but…" He lifted his left hand to run his fingers through his messy hair. "She trusted me and I broke that. I made her feel like she wasn't enough. I hate myself everyday for that."

Harry nodded, resting his hand on Petyr's shoulder.

Maybe he wasn't so bad after all.

"Look Petyr…" Harry started, looking down at his hands before finding his eyes again. "You might be the better guy for her. You might love her more than I ever could. She might even be happier with you… but I can't just give up." He paused. "As long as she wants me… I'm going to try to make her happy."

Petyr nodded slowly, twisting his mouth in thought. "I know it doesn't always seem like I love her… but I do. I really do. And I want it to work. And I'm going to try as long as she lets me."

Petyr felt something in his chest as Harry spoke… some strange sort of pride. He didn't consider the man a friend in the least… but he  _ has _ learned quite a bit about him in the last few months and to see him  _ finally _ , after all this time, understand what Petyr has been telling him… to fight for her no matter what… it made him proud.

It was weird and twisted… but yes, what Petyr was feeling was pride. He finally made Harry understand how important she is.

If she doesn't want Petyr… he will make damn sure that the person she  _ does _ choose, understands exactly how important she is. How special she is.

"If I was a better man… I'd let her go so she could be with someone she deserves, but I'm not." Harry added.

Petyr breathed a laugh. "I'm not a good man either." He stated the obvious. "So I will never give up on her and I, even if she has. But I respect you more for making that decision, Harold."

_ I guess he isn't a complete imbecile after all. _

_ I guess he learned something. _

Harry stretched his hand towards him in offering, but Petyr looked down at his own casted hand and then back up at Harry, who then laughed and apologized.

"It's been about 20 minutes." Petyr stated. "Could you check on her again?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bond: an obligation given to a court.
> 
> No Petyr/Sansa! Sorrrrry!
> 
> I like to show Harry as a bit of an idiot in stories... I don't know why, really, lol! But in this chapter he was like, half and idiot and half... okay. I kind of liked him in this chapter.
> 
> I mean... I want San and Pete to be together in this story more than ANYONE, believe me, but I like that Harry's going to fight for her. He SHOULD fight for her.
> 
> Did you guys like Harry and Petyr talking truthfully like this? It was kind of weird in a way, a little bit twisted in a way, but also kind of sweet? They both got everything off their chests and made themselves promises when it comes to Sansa.


	8. Conviction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back!!!
> 
> I was sick with a virus for a couple weeks, so I apologize for my absence!
> 
> A shorter chapter but a necessary one.

_ So, before you go,  
Was there something I could've said to make your heart beat better?  
If only I'd have known you had a storm to weather.  
So, before you go,  
Was there something I could've said to make it all stop hurting?  
It kills me how your mind can make you feel so worthless.  
So, before you go. _

* * *

Someone had washed the blood from her body, but the purple bruises remained. Her right eye was swollen about half its normal size. Her bottom lip was split in two places, but quickly healing. Her left arm was in a cast from shoulder to wrist. She had various cuts on her face, most of them shallow but some had a few stitches. She had a neck brace on, but Petyr could still see what was underneath: dark purple bruises in the shape of hands.

He closed his eyes, his mind immediately bombarded with flashbacks from that day. Flashbacks of Ramsay’s hands wrapped tightly around her throat, squeezing,  _ squeezing. _

Petyr chewed on the side of his cheek as he fought the tears. His chest felt tighter than ever watching her like this: a tube in her mouth to help her breath.

Her lung had collapsed and it needed to be surgically fixed, they had told him. Harry had gone in to see her first, but after being told it would take hours for her to wake up again, he left to shower and recharge. So it was Petyr's turn now.

There was one thing they didn't tell him when he wheeled his chair into the room. One thing that he wondered if Harry even knew about. One thing he was scared to ask after, but knew he had to. It would be better coming from him if she had to find out she was no longer pregnant.

"Doctor Tarly?" He called gently when the man made to leave Petyr alone with her. He stopped and spun around expectantly. "She lost the baby, didn't she?"

The doctor paused. Looked down. Grimaced. "We weren't sure of the situation, or if she even knew she was pregnant, so we were holding off until she woke up." He sighed. "Unfortunately we were not able to bring the baby back. It had been too long. Too much trauma."

Petyr nodded, feeling a pang in his heart. That's just another thing Sansa had to overcome when she woke. _ When she woke. _ He hoped to god that it would be sometime soon.

"Thank you." He said quietly and soon after he heard the man leave, shutting the door behind him on his way out.

He placed his hand on the side of her face, feeling a tear streak down his cheek. No one was in the room so Petyr didn't even care to wipe it away. Even if people were in the room, who cared? All Petyr cared about was this woman lying unconscious in front of him, possibly never to see the light of day again.

He gave his head a small shake. He couldn’t think like that. All he had left was hope.

"Oh, sweetling." He whispered quietly. "I'm so sorry." He moved to grab her hand next. "I'm so, so sorry."

That sweet little babe will never get to know how perfect it's mother is. How strong and beautiful she is. He wondered if it was a boy or girl, if Sansa had a preference? It didn't much matter now what sex she preferred.

Petyr had asked the nurse earlier to bring him Sansa’s things, so he could call her parents. He wasn’t sure if Harry had yet or not, but he figured he should check in regardless. When her things arrived in a plastic bag, old clothes bloodied and torn in places, he felt a weight on his chest. He pushed past the initial pain and opened the bag, thanking and excusing the nurse so he could be alone with her. It wasn’t going to be an easy conversation.

He typed in her old password, but wasn’t surprised when the code was denied. It had been three years so of course she’d changed the password. His only other idea aside from calling Harry on his own phone to ask for the password, was to try and use her fingerprint to open it. He lifted her warm hand delicately and pressing her index finger against the home button and waited with bated breath as the phone suddenly unlocked and granted him entry.

He cringed immediately at her home screen picture: her and Harry outside in the snow, sharing a kiss. He recognized her wool mittens and matching hat.

The picture took him back to a time that seemed not so long ago, but he knew was really years. Back when her arms were wrapped securely around  _ his _ neck as she laughed at the sight of him in a toque for the first time. Her parents lived up north, which Petyr was not at all happy about upon discovery. Her skin was flushed from the cold, cheeks and nose a bright red: she looked beautiful with her auburn tresses catching seemingly every snowflake that fell their way. She was smiling widely, ignoring the snowballs hurtling towards the two of them from her brothers and younger sister. Her eyes were the brightest he’d ever seen them. It reminded him of the sea, so utterly enthralling. His arms wrapped around her waist tightly as he pulled her against him to avoid a well-aimed ball of snow. Her cold lips pressed against his stubbly chin and he leaned back to catch another glance at her; just to look at her felt like a privilege he was far from deserving. Her smile widened, flashing him the whites of her teeth. A winter goddess. A blizzard angel. A snow Queen. A strand of her wild red hair obstructed his view of her face, so he reached a hand up and tucked it back in place, letting his gloved hand rest against her cheek for a moment longer. It was cold standing out in the open in Winterfell, but her warmth radiated off of her and warmed his very soul. It was in that moment that he had decided to ask her to become his wife; that moment that he realized she was  _ everything _ .

Petyr’s eyes closed as he envisioned how she looked in that fleeting moment of happiness. How her smile brightened her entire face, the skin around her eyes crinkling. He exhaled slowly through his nose in a long sigh before opening his eyes again and finding her contacts. It was hard to ignore the way his heart was hurting now.

“Hello, sweetheart! I hadn’t heard from you in a couple of days, I was just about to call.”

Petyr took a deep breath.

So they didn’t know yet.

He would have to deliver this news to her mother. He would have to tell her how her daughter is lying motionless in a hospital bed. How he, himself, didn’t get to her fast enough. How this was his fault.

“Catelyn... it’s Petyr.”

The other end of the line went deathly silent. Perhaps it was because he had called on Sansa’s phone, or perhaps it was his tone of voice.

“Sansa and I had started talking again… and-”

He looked over at her, her eyes still closed and her body still.

“Something’s happened.”

He spent the next twenty minutes talking to her mother over the phone, telling her the short PG version of what happened. It took a while when they were dating for her family to warm up to the idea of him, but eventually they did and Petyr actually ended up enjoying their visits.

“We will be there as soon as possible. I’m booking us a flight as we speak.” Catelyn told him after he dealt with her shock and tears about the situation. He could hear her speaking to someone else -probably her husband- in the room with her. “Why didn’t Harry call?”

Petyr wanted to give the guy the benefit of the doubt, so he responded with: “The last couple days have been crazy, honestly. He probably hasn’t even thought about it. I just sent him to get some sleep a few hours ago. Told him I’d watch over her.”

The woman on the other end of the phone made a noise to show she understood. “I’m going to have the boys set her old room up for her while Ned and I are over there.” She thought aloud, catching Petyr’s attention. “The bed is big enough for Harry if he can get the time off work.”

“You’re taking her back with you?” Petyr asked, trying to keep the concern from seeping into his voice. He wanted to watch over her, take care of her… but of course her home and her family is where she should be while she heals. And definitely away from the danger of King’s Landing for a while.

“Yes, she needs to be with us. She needs to be here.” Catelyn replied, with no room for argument. Petyr would have to settle with calling her daily to see how she’s doing once they leave.  _ Once she wakes up. _ “Looks like we’ll be there late tomorrow. Will we see you then?”

“Of course.” Petyr answered without a second thought. “I won’t be leaving her side.”

They said their goodbyes and Petyr hung up, putting her phone back where he found it and turning towards her, moving to grasp her hand tightly between both of his.

"Do you have any idea how much I love you? How destroyed I would be if you didn't open those beautiful eyes?" He let out a slow, shaky breath. "You're everything, Sansa. I hope you know that."

The nurse came back in to check on both of them, telling him to stay seated in the wheelchair for the rest of the day. Nothing changed with Sansa’s condition.

His father called an hour or so later and they talked for a long time, which made Petyr equally sad and happy. Petyr’s father was under the impression that his son was 19 again, in the hospital recovering from the injury that gave him such a nasty scar down the middle to live with. But just hearing his voice was comforting to Petyr, so he humored him and listened to what he had to say.

Harry called after a little while but Petyr told him he should rest for a bit longer, and that he would call him if  _ -when- _ she wakes.

_ It must have been a whole day, _ Petyr thought as he wheeled himself over to the window and opened the blinds. _ Yep, dark. _

He hated not being able to stand, but the pain from the gunshot hurt too much to be walking around. His doctor said to stay completely seated for a couple of days and then to walk minimally for about a week. Which was fine, really. It had already been two full days here, already.

As if on cue, his doctor showed up to tell him he can begin walking if he wanted to try, but that he needs to take it easy. Petyr was thankful for the distraction of trying to walk without cursing from the pain throbbing in his abdomen. They had brought him a cane, which Petyr was slightly bitter about as it was something an old man would use, before giving in and accepting the walking assist. He needed it, after all. Standing hurt. The wound in his abdomen burned with pain as he walked, but it was a welcome change to the unbearable pain his heart felt.

He limped himself back over to Sansa, grabbing a hold of her hand once more as he sat down beside her. He flipped over her hand gently, tracing the lines on her palm before bringing her hand to his mouth and kissing it delicately.

_ He remembered the first time he saw her. How could he ever possibly forget? _

_ She was wearing a black dress with long sleeves and a skirt that flowed out from her body, so that if she twirled around the skirt would spin around her legs beautifully as it rose up to her mid thigh. She wore a silver necklace with a simple ‘S’ and a matching pair of silver earrings. Her hair was done up in a high ponytail, which Petyr had been sure to rid her of later that evening with a rapacious desire to run his fingers through her hair. Her lips had tasted of lemon from the pie she ordered for desert when they shared their first kiss. He’d never forget the lightness he felt upon seeing her for that first time… How his hands shook when she greeted him with a simple ‘are you Petyr?’... How his knees felt weak when she smiled up at him. _

"My dear Sansa." He whispered to himself. "You don't know how badly I wish I could trade places with you. I'd give my life over and over so you could live. I honestly would. Happily, even." He sighed regretfully. "If I'm making wishes," he started, shaking his head at himself as he breathed a laugh. "I also wish we hadn't lost those years. I wish I hadn't been so terrified that you would leave me. I wish I would have fought for you harder." He paused as he examined the lines in her hand, pressed her flat hand against his larger one as if comparing size. "I wish you wouldn't marry Harry. I wish I hadn't fucked up when I had you. I should have told you every second, how much you mean to me." He sighed again. "Fuck, I miss you." He swallowed thickly. "Mostly, though… I just wish you'd wake up."

As he said it, his eyes travelled up her body to her face, where bright blue eyes were watching him curiously.

* * *

~I don't know how we got to where we are.  
So far removed I don't know where to start.  
'Cause I've been away for far too long,  
_But I implore you please hold on._  
**_I beg you please hold on.~_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Conviction: The act of finding someone guilty.
> 
> Before You Go
> 
> &
> 
> Leaving My Love Behind
> 
> By Lewis Capaldi.


	9. Dependant

“Here.”

Petyr looked up from the whiteboard Sansa had written on to look expectantly at whomever had interrupted his time with her. It was her mother and she had her arm outstretched, handing him a razor and shaving cream that looked brand new.

Petyr’s brows drew together as he slowly accepted the items in Catelyn’s hand. “You refuse to go home, but you desperately need to shave so-”

Petyr smiled sheepishly as he looked over at Sansa in question, who had written ‘_ you badly need a shave’ _on the white board in her hand and held it up for him. He scratched at said facial hair awkwardly before rising from his seat.

Sansa’s neck brace was gone and the tube was pulled from her mouth, but due to the swelling from the strangling, she still couldn’t talk. Her parent’s solution was a dry erase board, which she had been trying out on Petyr all morning… mostly to make fun of him, mind you.

Petyr needed to tell her about the baby still, but it wasn’t exactly something he wished to say in front of everyone, and no one seemed to want to be away from her, which was understandable considering. Even Petyr was having a hard time standing from his spot beside her to find the closest bathroom, fearing being a part from her for a moment.

Harry had left not long ago to grab some food for everyone, which Petyr chipped in money -a lot of money- for, so that Sansa’s parents didn’t have to worry about such things while they fussed over their daughter. The doctors had told Petyr he could leave if he wanted to, but he told them that he doesn't have anyone to take care of him at home, so the doctors told him he could stay a bit longer… though Petyr only told them that so he could watch over Sansa. Plus, when Harry heard that he asked if Petyr needed anything from his home. He returned an hour later with a small bag of clothes and an update about Cas, telling him that he left two bowls of food for her.

Sansa didn’t remember the incident fully. She remembered Ramsay coming out of -seemingly- nowhere and attacking her. She remembered him hitting her and spewing threats in her ear, though Sansa chose not to specify exactly what the threats entailed, but Petyr had a pretty good idea of what he had said to her. She didn’t remember much after that. She didn’t remember Petyr being there at all, and was surprised when she saw him injured too.

Petyr hadn’t told her exactly what happened yet, only that Ramsay was dead and that Petyr was there when it happened. Petyr wasn’t even sure if she was aware that it was him that killed Ramsay, though he figured she assumed as much. He knew she would want to know the details sooner or later, but he would wait until she asked before he brought up such horrible memories.

Ned and Catelyn are currently staying at Sansa and Harry’s house until Sansa is well enough to leave the hospital, in which case she will go to her childhood house up in Winterfell to recovery. He could tell she had mixed feelings about that decision when her parents informed her, and Petyr -selfishly- wondered if it had anything to do with him.

Both his and Sansa’s more shallow cuts and bruises were fading rather quickly, which he was thankful for. He hadn’t actually looked in the mirror until now, cringing at the sight of the bruise still lingering beneath his left eye and the cut that still stung at times above his cheek bone. His hair was tousled from all the times he’d ran his hands through it anxiously while he waited for her to wake and he _ did _ in fact need a shave.

He applied the shaving cream and began. It was far harder to shave with his left hand than he imagined it would be. Without having the use of his dominant hand, he decided to just shave it all off, mustache and everything. He felt a lot better once it was off and his teeth were brushed. Fresh, even.

He fixed his hair as best he could and changed into a new outfit that Harry had brought him: dark jeans and a green Ralph Lauren Polo shirt tucked into a thick dark brown belt. He felt better getting out of the hospital gown that he sported yesterday, though his doctor wasn't pleased about the change, having to ask him to undress to check him over and change his bandages.

He left the bathroom and found Sansa's room again, happy to see Harry had returned with sandwiches for everyone. Sansa couldn't eat such food just yet, but Petyr gave it a try, only able to eat half of it before his stomach protested against the major change in diet.

"Petyr! I don't think I've ever seen you freshly shaved before." Catelyn exclaimed once they finished eating. Petyr half smiled, feeling self conscious now that everyone was looking at him. He suddenly missed his mustache and goatee.

"I don't normally shave it all off." He shrugged casually, running a hand over the soft skin of his once-prickly chin. "It's a weird feeling actually."

Petyr had suggested shaving completely one time to Sansa when they were together, so she didn't always get beard burn when they made out -or when he did _ other _ less PG things to her- but Sansa had insisted that she liked his facial hair. So he kept it.

He gathered that she grew to like the clean face look, as Harry never grew out his facial hair. Or perhaps she just wanted a younger looking man; Petyr cringed at that thought.

_'I was beginning to worry for your mental health with how dischelved you were letting yourself get.' _Sansa wrote, holding it up with a little smirk. He rolled his eyes in good humor, knowing she was teasing him about his need to always look pristine and polished.

"You should look in the mirror, sweetling." He jabbed back, making her breath a laugh as her cheeks reddened.

"You're beautiful even now, babe." Harry piped up, ruining Petyr's playful joke. Sansa's smile faltered slightly at Harry comment, but she tried hard to cover up her slip. Petyr noticed.

Petyr's doctor entered the room with her hair tied in a high ponytail and her hands stuffed deeply in her lab coat. "How's everyone today?" She asked kindly, receiving various responses. "Wonderful! Now..." She eyed Harry, Sansa and Petyr strangely before she continued. "I was wondering if I could ask you a personal question, dear?" She addressed Sansa, who perked up and nodded her consent.

"Well, you see... a few of us doctors and nurses have a bit of a bet going on." Doctor Reed started slowly, licking her lips with a mischievous grin. "We were trying to guess which one of these beautiful men you are engaged to?"

Sansa blushed fiercely under everyone's gaze and Petyr smirked as he turned to her in question, knowing -obviously- that she would say Harry, but secretly wishing the answer would somehow be different.

Harry looked slightly offended, like he couldn't believe people would think Petyr and Sansa were a couple. Was he so soon to forget how Petyr put his life between Sansa and Ramsay? Petyr wasn't surprised in the least that people thought he was her fiance.

"I'm her fiance!" Harry said sternly, trying not to show how much the doctor's comment had affected him. He reached for Sansa's hand and held it tightly, as if to prove his point.

"Damn! I lost some money, then." The doctor replied, making Petyr chuckle lightly.

She stepped around Sansa's bed toward Petyr.

"Well anyway, Baelish, time to change your bandage. Do you want to stay here and do it or go to your room?" His doctor asked as she approached him. Petyr's eyes flickered over to Sansa as she frowned in confusion, writing '_what bandage?' _ and holding it up for everyone.

Only Harry knew, Petyr suspected, about his gunshot wound. He would have liked to keep it that way for the time being until he told Sansa the story of what happened. It was just easier that way… and then no one would have made a big deal about it.

Petyr opened his mouth to reply but Dr Meera Reed quickly read Sansa's question and answered before he got the chance. "Oh, his gunshot wound, dear."

"You were _ shot!?" _ Catelyn interjected, mouth hanging open in surprise.

Petyr closed his eyes as he sighed, cringing. Sansa's eyes were wide with disbelief and shock when Petyr looked over at her. _ 'What!?' _ was all she wrote and Petyr half shrugged.

"Oh… my apologies… I didn't know." Doctor Reed added awkwardly as she looked between the two of them.

"I guess you can change the bandage here, then." Petyr told her dully, lifting his shirt to expose the large white bandage across his abdomen.

Petyr was annoyingly aware of everyone's eyes on him as the doctor peeled off his bandage. Catelyn gasped at the sight of it.

"Christ, Petyr!" Ned said aloud as he looked at the wound from a far. Petyr suspected her parent's surprise also stemmed from the sight of his old scar which bisected his torso. They hadn't seen it until now.

Harry stayed silent as he watched. Petyr was annoyingly aware of the way Sansa's fiance was doting over her: playing with her hair and holding her hand. As if trying to mark his territory.

"It looks much better, Baelish." The doctor told him as she applied some ointment and Petyr flinched from both the coolness of it as well as the pain that shot through his stomach.

Sansa's parents left the room while the doctor tended to him as Ned's phone started ringing. Petyr assumed it was one of their kids calling.

"So..." Doctor Reed began as she prodded his wound more and more with a cotton swab. "If he's with her... would I be right in assuming you're single?"

Petyr's eyes flickered over to the couple beside him. Harry gave Sansa a kiss on the cheek, as if reminding Petyr what wasn't his. Petyr felt a twinge of jealousy flare in his chest before he looked back at the doctor standing over him.

"I am." He replied simply, surprised when the woman blushed a little and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

_I wish I wasn't, but I am._

_"Hmm..."_ She hummed as she disposed of the cotton swab and started preparing the bandage. "I supposed that's for the best..." She trailed off mysterious, intentionally trying to draw Petyr in. He was aware of her not-so-subtle flirting, but humoured her regardless.

"Why's that?"

He knew both Sansa and Harry were listening to his conversation and although he wasn't interested in this woman, he had half a mind to try and make her jealous... to try and make her feel at least _part_ of the raging jealousy he was feeling constantly.

"Well you can't exactly _perform_ with a gunshot to the abdomen now can you?" She blurted out, making Petyr's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. _She's a little bold, isn't she?_

"Wanna bet?" Petyr countered, hearing Harry bark a laugh at his comment. He turned slightly sideways to catch Sansa pursing her lips in... _Distaste? Annoyance? _-Or was that just Petyr being hopeful.

Doctor Reed blushed deeply, covering his wound with a large bandage and pressing on the sides to secure it, making him grunt in pain.

"We all think it was very brave of you to do what you did." Doctor Reed told him as she lowered his shirt back into place and too a small step back. "The paramedics said they found you barely concious and bleeding out. They said you were a little delirious to the point that when they tried to take her from your arms, you refused to let go."

Petyr was suddenly a little embarrassed from all the admiration. Especially in front of both Sansa and Harry. Petyr didn't even remember what she was referring to.

"Uh..." He scratched the back of his neck, not finding himself able to meet Sansa's eyes.

"Are the two of you related then? Siblings?" The doctor continued, oblivious to his growing discomfort.

"No." Petyr barked a laugh. "We're... friends."

The doctor's eyebrows creased slightly in confusion before she smiled brightly. "You're that protective over a friend? Gosh, I can't imagine what you'd do for a lover." She smirked shyly, ducking her head before meeting Petyr's amused eyes again.

He was less amused by his doctor's bold advances towards him and more amused at the thought of Sansa not being his lover. They made love more times than he could count when they were together. Petyr shot Sansa a quick glance and was glad to see the top of her cheeks reddening, clearly thinking the same as he was.

Doctor Reed suddenly breathed an embarrassed laugh, stuffing her hands back inside her lab coat. "I'm sorry. I-" She looked around nervously. "You're just very... y'know..." Petyr smirked at how flustered she was becoming, cocking an eyebrow. "Charming, and-"

"And?" He probed, thoroughly enjoying the way Sansa was drumming her fingers against her thigh in barely-restrained annoyance.

_"And_... are you just going to let me keep embarrassing myself, or...?"

Petyr chuckled lightly, adjusting in his seat while ignoring the pain in his abdomen. "I'm _flattered_, Doctor." He purred. "But unfortunately I'm not quite in the right headspace to date at the moment. Though I do appreciate your honesty."

"Of course, I'm sorry!"

"-no need to apologize." He assured her before offering her a warm smile as a parting gift while she fled from the room. He spotted a few other doctors standing huddled together outside his room and watched as Doctor Reed told them what happened and they all giggled.

_She was a little... bold_. Sansa wrote, making Petyr look at her with a smug expression and a raised eyebrow.

"Nah, she was sweet." Harry corrected, stroking Sansa's casted arm. "Looks like you have some options out there, Petyr."

Petyr gazed at the small group of woman still gossiping about him outside, and then looked back at the two of them. He shrugged with one shoulder.

"I'm good." Petyr replied simply, turning down Harry's attempt at shifting Petyr's focus from Sansa to another.

"You sure? We could go on double dates." Harry suggested, making Petyr bite his tongue hard. What a _lovely, lovely_ suggestion Harold. Thanks for that.

"Your doctor's pretty attractive." The blond added, making Sansa roll her eyes.

_'I'm _right _here!' _She wrote out angrily, though Petyr had an odd feeling that she was refering to both of them and not just her fiance.

"I'm touched by your concern for me and my love life, Harry, but I'm really not interested." Petyr added with no room for argument.

Harry's lip curled slightly in disappointment, looking like he wanted to say more but refrained. He looked down to stroke Sansa's hair instead of responding.

She reached for her whiteboard and began writing.

She held it up for Harry, who reluctantly nodded and left the room. Petyr caught sight of the message as she lowered it again.

_ I need to speak with Petyr alone. _

Petyr swallowed down the lump in his throat, and smiled at her sheepishly, not knowing what this conversation would entail.

Her eyes flickered down to his stomach and he instinctively rubbed his hand against his shirt where he knew his wound lay healing underneath. He smiled sheepishly, knowing she was annoyed that he didn't tell her about being shot.

"Sansa-" He started to explain, but she shook her head for him to stop. He closed his mouth immediately.

And she began writing again.

He had to reread her message multiple times, because out of all the things he expected her to say… it wasn't the words she wrote.

_ You took a bullet for me? _

He met her eyes again, this time finding hers glassy from unshed tears. He nodded. What was he supposed to say?

She reached her hand out to grasp his tightly, thanking him with her eyes.

She withdrew her hand almost reluctantly and began writing a new message.

_ Just tell me. _

He sighed. He knew what she wanted him to tell her. The baby. He was the only one that knew about it.

He slowly shook his head, finding himself at a loss for words. Sansa understood what he was telling her: that her baby didn't make it.

She finally let the tears fall, silently crying for her unborn -deceased- child.

He placed his hand on her arm, squeezing reassuringly. "I'm sorry." He managed to choke out. "Gods, Sansa, I'm sorry."

She leaned towards him, lifting her casted arm. Petyr was surprised that she wanted him to hold her, but didn't hesitate for a second before leaning over her and wrapping her in his arms tightly. She cried into his shoulder, her fingernails digging into the back of his neck in an attempt to pull him closer to her.

Petyr really shouldn't have been thinking about how good it felt to be the man she chose to hold her when her fiance was right outside the door… but that was all he could think about.

Her other hand was looped under his arm and he could feel her engagement ring pressing an indent into the skin of his right bicep. It was a bitter reminder that although she needed _ him _ in this moment of weakness… he still wasn't the one she wished to spend the rest of her life with.

He pulled away once he felt her settle down a little and he looked into her eyes. "I was so scared." He whispered, watching the pain flash in her eyes. "I thought I might lose-" he couldn't finish his thought because it was too painful to even say aloud. His chest felt tight and he had the urge to clear his throat but he was so close to her. So much left unsaid.

She opened her mouth, trying to speak, but Petyr shook his head. "Don't, sweetling."

He rested his forehead on hers momentarily, avoiding the stitched up cut on the top left near her hairline. Then, not being able to resist, he pressed his lips to her head.

"I'm just glad you're alive." He breathed, blinking back his pain and taking a step back.

She looked down at the marker and board lying on her lap. She picked them up and wrote one more thing.

_ Thank you. _

For saving her. For taking a bullet for her. For being there for her. For holding her just now.

He nodded, smiled. She wrote again:

_ I need to tell Harry. _

Then,

_ Could you stay while I do it? _

She wanted his support, he guessed, and also his ability to explain with words in places she couldn't with a marker.

"Of course, love." He told her.

Petyr had found Harry and her parents in the waiting room just around the corner and he sent Harry inside, telling him he would be there in a moment.

He told her parents of what had happened, how she was pregnant but lost it, and Catelyn got emotional again, giving her husband a tight hug. Petyr left them to mourn their loss as he followed the direction Harry had gone to Sansa's room.

He could tell she was relieved when he walked inside and took his place on one of her sides. When she finished what she had been writing, she placed her hand atop Harry's and then handed him the board.

Harry looked down and began to read. Petyr could see the black scrawl from where he sat and quickly scanned over it.

_ Harry, you need to know… when I asked you about kids before... it was because I was pregnant. _

Harry's body tensed and he slowly looked over at her. "You… you're pregnant?" He asked, voice both reluctant and hesitant.

Sansa sucked her bottom lip into her mouth as she blinked back tears. She took the board back and wrote out:

_ I was. We were. _ _ But I lost it. I'm sorry. _

Harry read it eagerly and immediately sighed in… _ relief? _

_ "Thank god." _

It was whispered so quietly under his breath, but Petyr heard him… and by the flash of anger on Sansa's face… she heard him too.

Petyr's hand tensed under his cast and he winced at the pain that rippled up his arm from it. This guy was lucky Petyr's dominant hand was so broken.

Harry, upon seeing the look on Sansa's face, quickly tried to correct himself. "No, no, I just meant- of course that is awful and sad and I'm so sorry but… I mean, come on Sansa… we weren't ready to raise a child!"

Petyr stood, abruptly, having enough of this, but Sansa's hand shot out to stop him from doing anything but standing there and glaring in Harry's direction.

Sansa's hand squeezed around Petyr's wrist until he lowered his gaze to her. She gestured with her chin for him to leave and he, despite not wanting to go, followed her wishes and left the two of them alone.

Petyr was on edge for what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only around twenty or so minutes later before Harry emerged from her room.

His shoulders were slumped and his right hand was balled into a fist. He looked upset, that was for sure. Defeated was maybe the better word to explain the look of dread on his face.

Petyr stayed away from him, not wanting to do anything rash. He let Sansa's parents approach the man and ask him what had happened.

Petyr watched with bated breath as Harry hung his head, opening his fist to reveal Sansa's engagement ring.

Petyr was in Sansa's room in seconds.

He knew she was upset, but she wasn't crying, which was a good thing. She looked up as soon as he stepped into the room and she sighed, looking back down at whatever she was in the middle of writing. He took a moment to admire her bare ring finger, absent of any committments.

"Are you okay?" He asked slowly, sitting down beside her. She shot him a look that said _ did you really just ask me that?_

"Yeah… I know, I'm sorry… stupid question."

She looked back down and finished her message, turning it toward him.

_We are still together. I just told him I had to reconsider his proposal. I need space from him to think it over._

Petyr looked back up at her, and patted her arm comfortingly with his casted hand. She wrote something else now and he waited patiently for her to finish.

_ I want you to tell me what happened. Everything that happened. But I don't know if I can relive it right now. _

"That's okay, sweetling. I'll tell you when you're ready." He quickly reassured her. He went quiet for a moment as he looked upon her. "I'm going to miss you while you're at your parents. I'm going to worry all the time."

"You could come with us."

Petyr spun around to face both Cat and Ned Stark standing there holding hands as they watched the two of them.

"What?" Petyr voiced aloud, confused.

"Well we were planning on having Harry around too, so it's not like it's any extra work or anything… plus, the two of you should be healing together and looking after one another." Catelyn explained, though he could tell there was more to it than just that. There was some other reason she had for inviting him that she wasn't letting on. "Unfortunately, because the boys and Arya are returning, we won't have an extra room for you… but I can always set up a mattress in Sansa's room?" She added, sparking Petyr's interest… he'd get to sleep in a room alone with her?

Ned shifted uncomfortably at the thought, but didn't object to his wife's idea.

"That might actually be for the better." Catelyn continued, thinking aloud. "I'll feel nervous leaving her all night in case something happens. It would make me feel better if someone was there with her."

Petyr's eyebrows were raised in surprise at her mother's suggestion. Petyr turned to look at Sansa in question.

"It's up to you, sweetling. I'd understand if you want to recover alone with your family." He told her sternly so she would understand that he wouldn't be offended if she said no. "I'd also understand if Harry didn't feel comfortable with me going."

She wrote: _I'd like it if you came. I don't care if it bothers him._

And he smiled. He couldn't help himself. "Okay… I'll have to push some things and give Cas to someone for a while... and I may have to work a bit while I'm there, but-" He looked up at her. "Yes, I'll go."

She smiled with half her mouth, nodding.

"Great!" Catelyn exclaimed. "The doctor said she could leave tomorrow. Petyr, do you think you'll be well enough to go?"

Petyr smiled, knowing he could have gone home yesterday if he wished to. "Yes, I'll be good to go."

He looked back at Sansa to discover her staring at him with a look of content.

Harry's ring was gone from her finger, so now all Petyr needed to do was rid the man from her life entirely.

A week or two at the Stark household with Sansa might even accomplish such a task.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dependant: A person who relies on another for support. A person whom another has an obligation to support.
> 
> Ooooo look at Pete getting some attention for his good looks and heroic actions! Why wouldn't he!? He IS beautiful.
> 
> Also added a bit of fluff in there for ya ;)
> 
> Sansa... needs a few weeks with Petyr... to... think... about her relationship with Harry...
> 
> 😉😉😜
> 
> Thoughts on this one?


	10. Deponent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a while... lol sorry...
> 
> I feel like I'm in a writing/posting mood rn though so you might get some more of this story very shortly. ;))

Petyr  _ hated _ flying.

He wasn't quite sure where his dislike -or a better word would be  _ fear _ \- for planes stemmed from exactly. Ever since he could remember, he hated them.

Which is why he found himself tightly gripping the armrest with his uninjured hand and squeezing his eyes shut as the plane picked up speed on the runway.

"Petyr?" His eyes shot open at the sound of her voice beside him.

She had just abandoned the white board this morning, and began trying to speak. Her voice had been gravelly and hoarse… far deeper than it normally was, but it was still her voice. Even if it sounded like she had a throat full of phlegm.

She had settled on  _ "this sucks" _ as her first words, which brought a smile to his face as well as her parents'. She had to speak very slowly and quietly, and Petyr could tell it hurt very much, but she was getting there. Petyr drove his own car to the airport, figuring he'd need it for the returning flight, and Sansa had gone with her parents. She must have been practicing speaking the whole way there because when he met up with them at their gate, her voice sounded far less strained and she didn't look as much in pain as she had earlier.

Sansa looked concerned for a second as she watched his odd behaviour before understanding flashed across her face. "Oh, that's right… you don't like flying."

He swallowed thickly, feeling the plane begin to take off. He squeezed his eyes shut tight again, pressing his head against the headrest.

"It's alright, Petyr." She hushed, hand finding his arm and squeezing reassuringly.

Petyr couldn't  _ breathe. _ That's what it felt like. His stomach was doing flips and his heart was pounding so loudly that it was all he could hear.

He was vaguely aware that Sansa was muttering something soothing into his ear, though he couldn't hear her over the opening and closing of the valves in his heart: the blood rushing through his veins.

"It's okay… we're in the air now." She whispered… Petyr eventually was able to hear and process her words. "Shh, see? We're good."

He looked across Sansa to see out the window, ensuring that they were in fact in the air and not plummeting to the ground. The plane felt steady and soon the seatbelt light dinged off.

He breathed a long sigh and finally turned to the woman beside him, who still had her hand closed around his upper arm. She hesitated for a moment before letting him go.

"I'm… I'm okay. Sorry." Petyr quickly relayed, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden. She nodded twice, moving to undo her seatbelt and adjust in the chair to get comfortable.

Sansa had been  _ extremely  _ thankful this morning to get out of her hospital gown. She dressed in a black long sleeve turtleneck, which Petyr figured had something to do with the dark bruises that still wrapped around her neck, and black leggings with a pair of short boots to match. The long sleeves of the shirt allowed her to cover her casted arm as well as the bruises, although anyone could identify the cast due to the bulging under the sleeve. Besides that, the only sign that Sansa had been hurt so badly was the still healing cut on her forehead and a fading bruise beneath her eye.

Petyr worried briefly at times if people around them thought that  _ he  _ had done such a thing to her… but then he remembered he was black and bloody as well and that someone would probably just assume they got in an accident or something.

It was only a two hour plane ride, so Petyr distracted himself with reading a small portion of a mystery book he'd brought with him as well as filling out some documents for work. Sansa had watched him closely as he read over files, asking questions here and there when she didn't understand one of the lawyer terms. Petyr was happy to explain, for it gave him a chance to talk to her.

* * *

“Sansa!”

Petyr moved away from Sansa’s side so her brothers and sister could greet her properly. He had been helping her through the airport when the standing and walking became too much and her body ached painfully. Petyr’s own body ached, especially his abdomen, but he gritted his teeth through the pain so Sansa could have some relief.

Robb was the first to reach his injured sister, wrapping his arms around her in a fierce embrace. Sansa hissed in pain from the sudden contact and her brother immediately pulled away to scan over her.

“How are you?” Jon demanded as he stood beside her, a hand firmly pressed against her back. Arya’s eyes were wide as she took in her sister’s healing injuries.

“I’ve been better.” She replied honestly, voice still raw and hoarse.

“I missed you!” Fourteen year-old Rickon announced as he wrapped himself around Sansa.

“I missed you too!” She told him, ruffling his hair. She looked at her older siblings and sighed in relief. “It’s really nice to see you all. Thanks for coming home.”

“Of course, Sansa.” Robb told her, moving a side to allow Bran to wheel his wheelchair closer to Sansa for a hug.

“I heard what you did.” Jon told Petyr, catching Robb’s attention as well. “Thank you.” Jon offered him his left hand, upon seeing his casted right one. As he accepted the handshake, Jon pulled him into a half-hug as he patted his back. It was a bit strange for Petyr to have Jon’s acceptance as he never seemed to have earned it three years ago. Jon, Ned and Arya were the three members of Sansa’s family that he failed to get approval by when he was her boyfriend. Not that they disliked him, however, just that he got the feeling that they felt Sansa could do better. Which was something Petyr, of course, knew was true.

Robb gave him a solid pat on the shoulder as well, nodding in his direction to show how grateful he was.

“Alright gang, let’s get out of here.” Ned commanded, steering his youngest son towards the exit. Petyr pushed his suitcase, half leaning against it for support, as he watched Sansa’s older brothers help her from the airport and to her parent’s car. Ned, Cat, Sansa and himself went in one car and the rest went in the black van that Robb had driven.

“Is Gendry, Ygritte and Talisa at the house too?” Sansa asked her parents as they began driving around the winding roads through the mountains. Petyr had only ever met Ygritte and Gendry… So Talisa must be a newer addition.

Gendry was Arya’s boyfriend for the past… five years, now? And Ygritte was Jon’s wife. They got married right before Petyr first met Sansa. Bran used to have some trouble with the ladies, in fact Petyr used to help him pursue a girl named Osha three years ago. And Rickon was still too young at the time to be dating. Robb was single the entire time Petyr knew him, so he expected this  _ Talisa _ was his significant other.

“They are! Robb said Talisa and Ygritte are making spaghetti for everyone. It should be finished by the time we get there and settled.” Catelyn explained and Sansa smiled, rubbing her stomach.

“Gosh I’m so hungry for some real food.”

“You mean you don’t like the endless fruit cups and jello?” Petyr teased, earning a groan of annoyance from the woman sitting beside him.

“I will never have jello again after that!”

Petyr chuckled lightly, stopping when he pulled out the phone ringing in his pocket. “Uh, sorry guys, but just excuse me for a moment.” He apologized before accepting the call.

_ “Baelish, the husband just signed for a full custody request. You left me such a mess.” _

“Shit. I’m sorry Varys.” Petyr sighed. “The husband said he was happy with shared custody.”

_ “Well something happened at the kid’s school the other day. Apparently the mother showed up high to pick him up.” _

“What? She was a  _ recovering  _ addict. Sober for three years!”

_ “The stress and pain of a divorce sometimes pushes people over the edge, Baelish, you know that.” _

Petyr ran his hand through his hair. “Alright… Well, is he going to let her see the kid at all?”

_ “Not until she’s been sober for a few months again, which is understandable. He wants to-” _

“-Move, yeah we discussed that.” Petyr contemplated what to do next. “I guess you can see how open she is to moving to a different province. If she will, then it’ll be less complicated for everyone. If not, call me again and we’ll figure something out for their separation. God, it's just one thing after another with these two.”

Petyr hung up shortly after and tucked his phone away again. “Is everything alright at work?” Catelyn asked from the front.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I just handed off one of my cases to my mate, so he’s still trying to understand everything and get accompanied to it all." Petyr explained 

"Sounds messy." Catelyn laughed, turning her body so she could face him. "So we haven't seen you in three years! Catch me up on everything."

"Oh," Petyr smiled awkwardly. "Not much has changed, honestly. I'm obviously still a lawyer… still in the same house… oh, I have a dog. Her name's Cas."

"Aw, well that's sweet! I didn't think you were really a dog person."

Sansa snickered at that, probably remembering the first time he met the huskies of the Stark house. "Yeah, well. I suppose they grew on me."

"What made you want to get one?" Her mother pushed further and Petyr licked his lips nervously, glancing Sansa's way.

"Bit lonely, I suppose." Petyr shrugged, ignoring the way Sansa was looking at him now.

"Well… I'm glad." Catelyn said finally, smiling as she looked straight ahead.

Robb and the others arrived at the Stark household before they did. As they pulled up in the long driveway towards the house, memories floated back to Petyr. The sight of the huge, old stone house with its tall twisty trees and endless yards of snowy fields made Petyr smile as he thought of the first time he had seen all of this. And the last.

Petyr carried their luggage inside, where Jon then took their bags and told him that he would put them in Sansa's room for him. Petyr felt grateful that he wouldn't have to do the stairs with heavy luggage. His broken hand was killing him as it was. He really needed to take it easy.

"Sansa!" A tall brunette woman that Petyr didn't recognize, pulled Sansa into a hug, followed by Ygritte. Gendry offered a smile as his arm remained wrapped around Arya.

Petyr shook Gendry's hand in greeting as they all moved to the kitchen, where Petyr smelled pasta. He breathed it in, sighing happily as his stomach gurgled.

"You must be Petyr." The brunette asked as she sat down beside him at the kitchen table, Sansa on his other side. "I'm Talisa." She offered her hand.

Everyone else was also settling in at the table, all gabbering like excited birds to each other. Petyr smiled charmingly. "It's nice to meet you. Are you here with Robb?"

"I am." She scooted her chair closer to the table and placed her napkin upon her lap. "And you're here with Sansa."

"Oh, well…" He scratched nervously at his chin, the stubble growing back was itchy. He would need to shave that properly soon, which will certainly be a mission seeing as his dominant hand was a little incapable of being precise.

"Not in the same way you're here with Robb."

"No?" She questioned with a teasing smile. He sneaked a glance sideways at Sansa, but she was mid conversation with Rickon and not paying him any attention.

He looked back at the woman beside him and chuckled lightly. He shrugged. "I wish."

"Ah!" Talisa replied, smirking knowingly.

"Oh, you've met!" Robb said cheerfully as he sat down on the other side of his girlfriend and took her hand in his.

"Just now, yes." She kissed him on the cheek before letting go of his hand and picking up her glass of what looked to be red wine and took a long drink from it.

Ned stood from the table suddenly, with his glass raised and everyone quieted down. "I'd like to make a toast, for my sweet little girl." He looked Sansa's way and smiled. "We are all so grateful that both you and Petyr are healthy and healing. I don't know what I would have done if things had gone differently that day." He looked down and paused, seemingly a little emotional. "We're just all very glad you're here. To Sansa."

"To Sansa." Everyone at the table, including Petyr himself, repeated and then drank from their glasses. Petyr had to use his left hand, but he managed pretty well. It was eating that was going to be the hard part.

Sansa seemed to notice this as he slowly reached for his fork and held it awkwardly. "Oh, Petyr… I'm sorry. I totally forgot."

That, of course, caught everyone's attention… thus making Petyr cringe and smile awkwardly. "I think I can manage spaghetti."

Everyone continued on with their conversations and Petyr concentrated on swirling the noodles onto his fork and then cautiously guiding it to his mouth. The first fork full was successful, thankfully for Petyr. As he worked on his second, he felt Sansa's gaze, so he turned to look at her expectantly.

She leaned closer so their conversation was more private this time. "If you need help, I can feed it to you later."

_ Feed him? _

Petyr chuckled, the tips of his ears turning red. "I don't think that's necessary, but thankful for completely destroying my ego just now." He joked and she smiled pleasantly, a teasing lilt to it.

"I've done it before." She reminded him in a whisper and his eyes glimmered with mischief.

_ "I don't think me licking chocolate syrup from your body counts as feeding, sweetling." _

She went bright red and glanced around the table quickly to see if anyone was listening to their conversation. When she was satisfied, she looked back at his smirking expression and rolled her eyes.

_ "Funny." _ She mocked, her expression shifting once again. "But I'm serious. If you have too much trouble with anything, just ask."

He nodded his acceptance and she offered him one last smile before continuing with his food. Now all he could taste was chocolate, whip cream and Sansa's skin. That salty, perfect skin.

He shifted in his seat, trying to block the taste from his memory and focus instead on the tomato sauce coating his mouth. His body settled down and he tried for his fourth fork full of food.

After dinner Petyr found himself squished beside Sansa on one of the couches in the living room with the rest of the family stuffed together.

They were sharing the couch with Jon and Ygritte while Sansa's parents, Robb and Talisa shared the couch opposite them. The rest were scattered on the hardwood floor.

Petyr had his left arm around the back of the couch behind Sansa and she was leaning into his side, though Petyr didn't exactly take it as a win seeing as her brother was wedged right next to her and she didn't have much of a choice in the matter.

Petyr was just barely paying attention to what everyone was talking about as he fought his heavy eyelids from shutting completely. It had been a stressful day with a lot of walking through the airport. All he wanted was a bed. Although, he knew what waited for him was the floor in Sansa's room.

"So…" Robb started to ask, looking around hesitantly. "We weren't actually told what happened…"

"Robb-" Catelyn interjected, glancing nervously at Sansa.

"What?" He shrugged. "Look, if you guys aren't ready then that's fine, but I'm just saying… we want to know."

Everyone was deathly silent, all eyes focused on Petyr and Sansa. Petyr swallowed thickly as he looked down at a very nervous-looking Sansa.

"It's up to you." He told her kindly and she chewed at her bottom lip. She nodded slowly and he took a deep breath, knowing what he was about to recall was horrific for the both of them.

"Okay… well…" He kept his eyes focused on his casted hand as he began to retell his version of what happened.

"I had gone over to Sansa's because I wanted to speak with her about something." He started, licking his lips anxiously. "I knocked, but no one answered. I started to get a really bad feeling, so I stayed a bit longer and knocked again." Petyr glanced at Sansa, feeling her heavy gaze on his person. He assumed it was a little surreal for her to hear him tell such a story.

"I was going to leave, but… I heard her scream." He looked away from Sansa's intense eyes and looked up to see everyone hanging onto every word he said.

"So, I tried the door but it was locked. But I knew I needed to get inside, so I went around the house. That's when I came across the glass sliding door at the side." He took in a shaky breath to try and prepare himself for the next part. "I could see her from where I stood. I could see him." He glanced at his audience once more to see their eyes wide as they listened intently. "He was on top of her. Hitting her. Hitting her…  _ so  _ hard."

Sansa rose a shaky hand and placed it on his arm as a sigh of comfort.

"Petyr… did…" Sansa started, face pale and voice  _ terrified. _ "Did he… The doctors didn't mention anything about it, but… did he-"

"Rape you? No." He finished for her to stop her struggling attempts. "He was going to. But thankfully I got there in time."

"So what happened next? Was that door locked too?" Robb asked, leaning forward on the couch so his elbows rested on his knees.

"Yes. I… god, I don't know what I was thinking…" He paused as he shook his head at himself. "I should have went out to find a rock or maybe there was something in my car hard enough to- even my keys or my phone would have helped." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "But clearly I wasn't thinking logically, because I just started hitting the glass with my fist."

"Didn't that hurt!?" Bran interrupted, furrowing his brow in confusion as he looked down pointedly at his casted fist.

"I guess. I didn't really feel it until after, to be honest. I suppose it was the adrenaline." He looked down at his cast again. "Anyways, eventually I made it through far enough to unlock the door. I tackled him and started hitting him, but in the mess of things I forgot about the gun and that's when he shot me."

Catelyn gasped, making Petyr want to roll his eyes at the dramatics of it all. It wasn't as if she lived through it. Though, Petyr refrained from showing any kind of annoyance, as he knew she was only being a scared mother.

"Everything after that was kind of… hazy. I don't even know how much time went by, but it felt like seconds. I remember looking to the side, looking for you." He turned to address Sansa, who gave him a sad smile and squeezed his arm. He covered her small hand with his.

"He was choking you. Strangling you." He swallowed down the lump in his throat as he watched pain flash across her face.

"I remember that. I remember a few things. Like you hitting him beside me. I remember feeling like I was going to die when he had his hands around my neck." She admitted quietly.

"So then, what? What did you do?" Arya piped in, Rickon agreeing.

Petyr took a deep breath. Would they think he's a monster for what he did next? How he killed him... pretty savagely, too?

"I stood up, somehow. And I reached for the closest heavy object that I could find. It happened to be a blender." He paused, looking down at his lap. "I… I hit him over the head with it and he fell unconscious. But I-"

"What?" Jon probed, as if his inquiry helped the words fall from Petyr's mouth any easier.

"Well I suppose I could have stopped, but… I didn't want to. Sansa would have been in danger if he lived, and I couldn't have that. So… well I hit him again. And again; until I couldn't find the strength to lift the blender anymore."

Again, another gasp was pulled from Catelyn's lips, but this time the younger Starks copied the sound.

Petyr turned to Sansa, whose eyes were full of both anguish and surprisingly: gratitude. "I thought you were dead. You looked so..."

"I'm okay, Petyr." She whispered hoarsely, leaning into him more. He reached up and gently brushed her hair from her face, being careful with the hard cast.

"Then Harry came home and saw what happened. He called for help and… I don't really remember anything else." Petyr finished, scared about what everyone would think of him now.

"Seven hells." Robb breathed as he leaned back into the couch cushions again.

"Yeah, that's bloody terrifying." Ygritte spoke up, looking at the two of them with pity.

"I can't believe you did all that for her." Talisa said, addressing Petyr. Petyr felt himself reddening under all the praise and stares. He shrugged it off, not able to meet anyones, especially Sansa's, eyes.

"You killed someone?" Arya added, probably saying the one thing that everyone was thinking.

"Arya!" Ned and Cat both scolded in unison.

Petyr sucked in a breath of air and remained staring at the floor.

"-That's wicked!" The youngest, Rickon, exclaimed. Bran nodded beside him in agreement.

"Yeah, Petyr… I have to say… I'm impressed." Arya finished with her eyebrows raised high on her head to prove her point.

"I'm glad you killed him because if you hadn't, I would have." Robb voiced aloud, earning a raised eyebrow from his girlfriend. He shrugged innocently in return before Ned nodded his agreement.

They were taking it all much better than he would have imagined.

Sansa and Petyr retired to bed soon after, both of them feeling the weight of the day catching up to them. Sansa was inside the adjoining bathroom brushing her teeth as Petyr changed into pajamas. Normally he'd where only briefs to bed, but as he was sharing a room with a lady, he felt it necessary to pack some clothing.

He figured he could get away without wearing a shirt, but it was rather chilly so far up north, so Petyr found himself dressed in a dark charcoal henley shirt with buffalo plaid pants to match.

Catelyn had helped drag a mattress into Sansa's room just before Sansa went to the bathroom, and so Petyr finished making the bed up before he sat down on top of it and began scrolling through the emails lighting up his phone.

The bathroom light flicked off and then moments after Sansa stepped into the room, looking adorable in her light grey long sleeve pajama top and long black and white striped pants.

She shifted uncomfortably for a second as Petyr's gaze found her, but soon after she recovered and headed for her bed.

Sansa's old room hadn't changed since he last saw it. The walls were painted a muted blue, with white accents in the form of throw pillows and curtains. It really wasn't childish in any way, which made Petyr think she had redecorated it a couple years before moving out as it looked so grown up. There wasn't much left to even show she used to live here everyday… It was so clean. A few pictures were scattered about, as well as some old books and a music box. But besides that… the room was empty.

Sansa sat cross legged on her bed, picking nervously at a pulled thread in her comforter. "Thank you."

Petyr's eyes moved over to the woman he loves and he tilted his head in confusion as he registered what she had said. "What for, love?"

"Risking your life for me." She said immediately, her gaze refusing to find his. "For… for killing him. I can't believe you killed someone for me." Petyr stayed quiet, not knowing how to respond. _ Oh it was no problem, really. _

"You really can't believe I'd do that for you?" He asked after a long moment of silence. Her eyes slowly moved up to his. "I mean it when I say that I'd do anything for you."

She slowly nodded, chewing on her cheek in what Petyr knew was a way to hold back something she wanted to say. "I know that." She said quietly, losing her nerve and breaking eye contact again.

"Do you?" He questioned, voice gentle and matching hers in volume.

She frowned slightly, biting her bottom lip now. "I don't know what you want me to say, Petyr. I can't -uh- I still have a boyfriend."

Petyr hung his head when she said that, his shoulders slouching. "Right." He breathed out.

The conversation died after that and Petyr moved to plug his cellphone in to prepare for sleep. There was still something gnawing at him, though. It only got worse when Sansa switched off her lamp and they were set in complete darkness. He was about to ask her something, but her question came first.

"Petyr?" She breathed it, like a whisper. The sound of it sent a chill through his body.

"Yeah?" He asked, matching her tone and wondering if his voice had the same effect on her as hers had on him. She was quiet for an unnaturally long time. So long in fact that Petyr began to think she wasn't going to say anything else. "Sansa?"

More silence, then: "What I told you at your house that one day… before all this happened…" She hesitated and he heard her gulp almost nervously in the silence between them. "It wasn't entirely truthful."

Petyr's brows drew together in confusion as he considered what she had said. What was she talking about?

He didn't answer her that night, as his tired brain tried desperately to catch up with her thoughts.

As he laid there in the darkness and silence, listening to her steady breathing, it slowly came back to him.

_ "And to answer your question from before… no. There is no chance for us." _

Petyr's heart soared as he turned his head towards her, his eyes fully adjusted to the dark by now, but she was fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deponent: A person making a statement under oath or affirmation.
> 
> Thoughts?


	11. Examination

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what's back...

Showering was a task on it's own with a bullet wound and a broken hand.

Catelyn had spent the morning sealing both Petyr and Sansa's casts with plastic bags and medical tape so they could bathe properly.

Petyr was starting to really get frustrated with only having his left hand to work with. Even washing his hair was a task. And when he finally finished in the shower and wrapped a towel around his midsection, he looked in the mirror just to notice that he needed a shave.

Petyr hated shaving all his facial hair off, but what else was he to do? Just as the thought came, Sansa knocked on the door.

"Hey, Pete… could I grab my hairbrush?" She called through the door and his eyes swept over the countertop, spotting the brush next to the sink.

"Yeah, you can come in." He replied, adjusting the towel.

She opened the door a moment later, letting the steam out from the bathroom and he smirked when she paused for a moment to take in his bare, damp chest. "Are you shaving?" She asked when he pulled out his razor and shaving cream. He nodded in reply, but she pursed her lips. He raised a questioning eyebrow. "I like your facial hair." She shrugged simply, reaching around him to get the hairbrush.

"Believe me, sweetling, so do I." He said, holding up his casted right hand to show why he couldn't.

"Oh, yeah… well if you wanted-" she stopped, biting her lip and shaking her head.

"What were you going to say?" He probed, curious. He leaned his back against the counter to face her properly.

"Well… I was just going to offer to do it for you." She admitted, a blush creeping up her neck despite her attempts to keep it down.

"You think you could do it?" He teased.

She laughed lightly and the sound was music to his ears. "I've probably spent more time looking at you than you have."

He shrugged. "That's fair. Did you want to do it now?"

Her eyes went wide. "You'd really trust me to do that?" She asked in disbelief.

"Well, like you said, you're the one that has to look at me if you fuck it up." He joked, handing her the razor and cream. "Besides, what's there to mess up? If it looks bad, I'll just shave it all off like I was going to."

His justification must have seemed valid enough, because Sansa ended up shrugging before she nodded her acceptance of the task. He hoisted himself up on the counter, being sure to keep his towel firmly in place around his waist. Though he caught her eyes flickering down as he maneuvered so his legs could be spread but the towel still covered him respectfully. 

“Could you help me get rid of this thing first?” He asked, gesturing to the plastic around his right hand. She was lucky that although she had a cast on her left arm, her hand was still able to work as normal… Besides, her dominant hand was uninjured unlike him. “Although I do like your mother’s creativity.”

She breathed a laugh as she started ripping off the tape, followed by the plastic. “Better?” She asked and he nodded, thanking her as he prepared the razor and shaving cream for her. “Okay, what do I do first?”

“See that brush there?” He pointed to the small beard brush beside him. She picked it up. “You have to brush through it all to make sure it’s neat.” She did as she was told, but it only took a few seconds seeing as how short his facial hair currently was from recently shaving it all off. “Okay, now you can apply the shaving cream here and here.”

He gestured to his cheeks and instructed where she should stop. She put a dollop of the electrifyingly blue gel in her hand and rubbed them together to create the foamy cream. It smelled strongly of his cologne, as it was a part of a set so all of his scents would match, and Petyr wore a smug grin when she leaned down a little to get a better smell of it. She had to step closer so she could reach him properly with both hands, and Petyr was desperately trying to restrain his arousal as her body fit between his bare legs.

She applied the cream gently to his face. She seemed to enjoy the task as well, smiling a little once she finished and her hands were left covered in it. She stepped back to rinse them in the sink and dry them on the towel before coming back into his space. “I just shave all that off, right?”

“Correct, though there shouldn’t be much anyways… Just a bit of unwanted stubble there.” He nodded, watching as she picked up the razor and removed the cap. He watched as her face dropped, turning serious when she set the blade to his skin.

She was taking her sweet time doing it, but she was doing a good job so far. Besides, he certainly didn’t mind being in her presence like this as she fussed over him. When she finished, she wiped off any remaining gel with a towel. Petyr opened his mouth to tell her what was next, but she cut him off before he had a chance. “Trust me, Petyr. Let me do it.”

He chuckled. “Okay. Go ahead.” She used the brush to comb through the hair once more before taking his silver scissors and snipping away. Petyr had no way to see what she was doing, as his back was to the mirror, but she seemed confident enough. At one point, she leaned backwards and tilted her head to the side as she considered him.

“Something’s off…” She trailed off… biting her bottom lip and she brought the siccors to his mustache and started, seemingly, shaping it slightly different than it was. “There.” She used his brush again to get rid of any clipped hairs and then rubbed the towel down his face once for good measure. He gave her a playful eye roll as she did.

When he looked in the mirror, he was pleasantly surprised. She’d done pretty much as well as he would have. “Sweetling, you did great.” He praised, earning a wide grin from over his shoulder.

“All handsome again.” She said unexpectedly as she stepped out of the bathroom so he could change.

He found himself in a wool jumper with long black jeans and a brown belt for today, not used to dressing for such cold weather. Sansa was already downstairs when he exited the bathroom, so he grabbed his phone from it’s place charging on the nightstand and sprayed a bit of cologne before heading down himself to join the fray.

It got louder and louder the further he made it down the stairs _ . Ah, the Starks, _ he thought as he rounded the corner to see almost everyone up and involved in what looked like a vicious game of poker. “Oh, Petyr! Come on in, we have pancakes made.” Catelyn welcomed, waving him inside as she led him into the kitchen where he saw Sansa plating some pancakes for the both of them. “Oh, you’ve already gotten into them I see. Okay, let me know if you need anything.” Cat said flippantly as she spun back around to join the game once more.

Sansa laughed as she looked up at him. “Mum still thinks I’m twelve, clearly.”

“Robb cheated while you were gone, mum!” Petyr heard one of the younger ones yell as he made his way to the table and sat down.

“I’m cutting this up for you.” She informed him as she cut two cakes in strips and then spun the plate a bit to cut them once more. Petyr chuckled, slightly embarrassed. Though he was truly grateful that she thought of him and didn’t make him ask for her assistance first. She even applied the syrup for him.

It had been a while since he had pancakes, in fact the last time might have even been here with Sansa, but either way they were just as good as he remembered. When they finished, their dishes were put in the dishwasher before Sansa dragged him into the other room to join the others. Petyr easily destroyed everyone else in poker, so much so that they all decided to switch to a different game, though their luck wasn’t much better with bullshit either. If only they had been playing with real money… Petyr would have made a fortune off of both Ned and Arya.

He went on a walk early in the day through the surrounding forest to get some fresh air when one of the games went south and ended in a shouting match between Arya and her brothers.

Luckily his phone didn’t ring all day, so he didn’t have to excuse himself for any phone calls or to respond to any emails. Though he wasn’t sure if the break would have been welcomed; the Starks were a lot to handle at times. Though they seemed to be accepting him with open arms this time. Not that him and Sansa were together romantically, but still. It was a good sign.

Though Sansa did get a call. It took Petyr about five seconds to guess who it was that was calling her. She excused herself from the living room, where they were just finishing a movie, and headed towards the mudroom nearer the front of the house. Petyr tried to focus on the end of the movie so he could fill Sansa in on it later, but he was far too distracted to pay attention.

About ten minutes passed, the movie now finished, that Petyr heard Sansa’s frustrated voice respond to something her boyfriend said on the other end of the line. The rest of the Starks heard it too, because they all became very quiet and Arya made a face at Jon. The front door then opened and closed and Petyr assumed she realized everyone could now hear her conversation, so she left to get some privacy.

The Starks went back to chatting about the movie, but Petyr suddenly felt the strong urge to have a cigarette. He excused himself and slipped out without, he thought, anyone noticing. He took the stairs two at a time as he searched his suitcase for the pack he knew was in there, as well as a lighter. When he found both items, he made it back into the hall and went up to the top floor where he knew he could find a balcony at the end of the hall, that overlooked the front yard.

Petyr shivered as soon as he opened the door and cursed himself for not grabbing his jacket first from downstairs. He closed the door behind himself and held his pack against his chest and cast as he plucked out a cigarette. He placed it between his lips and managed to get the lighter sparked with his left hand as his cast blocked the wind and snow. He sighed in relief once it was finally lit, and he breathed it in deeply.

When he leaned over the railing, he spotted Sansa in her long black winter jacket standing against a large pine tree to block out the bitter cold as she continued on with her phone conversation. He admired her long red hair as it caught snowflakes in the most beautiful fashion. She really was beautiful.

The door opened behind him and Petyr was surprised to look over his shoulder and see Sansa’s father step outside with -thank god- Petyr’s jacket in his hand. “Thought you might be wanting this.”

“Thank you. It was colder than I thought.” He explained as he accepted the jacket and shrugged it on, buttoning the grey material together around his body.

“Colder than you’re used to, more like.”

Petyr chuckled, nodding. “Yeah, that’s for sure.”

Ned leaned forwards, his arms laying along to railing as well… matching Petyr’s posture. “Can I have one of those?” Petyr raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Sure. Sorry, I didn’t know you smoked.” He apologized for being rude and offered the pack and lighter, watching as Ned lit one up.

“I don’t.” He chuckled, blowing out a cloud of smoke. “If you ask my wife, that is.”

“Right.” Petyr laughed, wondering if he ever had a conversation that felt so -natural? Normal? Nice?- with Sansa’s father in the past. The answer was most definitely no. “Well I better not ask her, then.”

“No.” He agreed, turning his gaze in the direction Petyr had been looking the whole time. “We really like Harry, you know?” Petyr internally groaned, preparing himself for this conversation. “He seems perfect. The right age,”  _ ouch. _ “A nice family, a stable job, a nice personality… A stand up guy.”

“He’s not a bad guy.” Petyr begrudgingly agreed.

“She was very upset when the two of you split, Petyr. Are you still in the place you were back then?” The question came out of the blue for Petyr. He frowned over at the man in confusion.

_ Place? _

“I’ve… Learned from what happened.” He sighed deeply. “Look… I know that Sansa and I never had the smoothest relationship to begin with… and I can see how choices I made hurt her, but-” Petyr was hesitant. He didn’t want to show this part of himself to someone who has always judged him the second they met. Not to mention, everything he says will probably be public knowledge amongst the rest of the Starks come dinner time.

Ned sighed, seemingly sensing Petyr’s apprehension. “I know I’ve never been the easiest on you, Petyr. But you have to understand, I only want the best for my daughter.”

“Believe me, I understand wanting the best for her.”

“Good.” He breathed in another lungful of smoke and Petyr did the same. “I’d like to know where you’re at with her now, so… If things with Harold don’t work out… I know that the past won’t repeat itself and leave Sansa heartbroken again.”

“Sansa wasn’t the only one heartbroken at the end of that relationship. Ultimately it was her that left me.” Petyr said without pause. “For good reason, I suppose.” Petyr ran a hand through his hair. “Sansa’s been the only woman I have ever truly cared about. The only person I wanted a relationship with. But she deserves better than me. I’ve always known that. And I  _ have _ genuinely grown since then. I understand what’s important to me and what’s incredibly insignificant. I want her in my life, no matter how she chooses to be in it. I’m fine with it just being a friendship, if that’s what makes her happy.”

“And if  _ you’re _ what makes her happy?” Ned asked, watching Sansa as she hung up her phone and wrapped her arms around herself before heading around the side of the house.

Petyr let a smile slip, imagining that. “Well then I’ll do everything in my power to keep her that way for the rest of my life.”

Ned finished off his cigarette moments before Petyr did and they flicked the buds down into the snow below them. “I know. I think everyone knows that after what you did for her.” Their eyes met then. “I wanted to thank you properly, Petyr. Like I said, I know I’ve never expressed much of a liking towards you in the past, which although I was just being over-protective, I shouldn’t have done. Because I, too, know what it feels like to not be welcomed by the family of the woman you love.”

“What did the Tully’s have against you?” Petyr asked with a skeptic laugh.

“Cat was my brother’s girlfriend for years, and she cheated on him with me and that’s how we got together.” Petyr’s brain just about exploded. The  _ honorable _ Ned Stark!? He laughed upon seeing the look on his face. “Yes, I know. But I was completely in love with her, you see. I know you can understand that. That’s why you saved Sansa.”

Petyr didn’t even try denying it. It was the truth.

“Anyways, I just wanted to clear things up between us. I’m apprehensive because you’ve already hurt my daughter so badly, but… After what happened… I think you’ve proven yourself enough.” Ned held out his hand towards Petyr and he took it, shaking it respectfully. He was surprised when Ned yanked him closer, their shoulder colliding as he patted him on the back. “Thank you for saving my little girl.”

Petyr just nodded, rendered speechless by this man that never gave his approval or blessing. Petyr felt, strangely, like he was getting both now. Even though she’s still dating another man. One that Ned openly shared, already has their blessing as far as Sansa is concerned.

Petyr stayed on the balcony a little longer after Ned left, thinking about his situation with Sansa. Would he truly be okay with nothing more than a friendship? No. Would he be there for her anyways, because he couldn't stand living without her? Yes.

He found his way back downstairs, keeping his jacket on as his intentions were to go look for Sansa, who'd been out of his sight for a while now. He smiled at Robb as he passed him in the hallway of the house on his way to the front door. He clenched his jaw when the cold breeze hit him once again. He truly was meant for the south.

He stuffed his cold hands into his pockets and ventured through the snow towards the side of the large Stark household. He, stupidly, didn't think to change into boots before coming out here, so the deep snow wasn't only soaking his feet, but almost all the way up to his knees as well. He'd have to have a hot shower and change later.

He found Sansa exactly where he expected to. There was a cliff, just inside the treeline to the side of the house that she always used to go to when she was younger. She showed him this spot last time he'd been here. Petyr smiled as he recalled the memory: threatening to throw her from the ledge before both of them fell to the ground in a heap as she attempted to attack him back. It had ended in a heated kiss that later led them to sneak back to her bedroom.

"Mind if I join you?"

She turned sharply at the sound of his voice, somehow not hearing the crunch of the snow beneath his weight as he approached. That only meant one thing, and Petyr wasn't sure if it was good or bad: she was deep in thought.

She shook her head, gesturing to the empty space beside her. Petyr approached cautiously, not wanting to slip on any ice and fall to his almost certain death down the cliffside. He personally thought she was crazy to sit so close without any fear. He slowly, nervously, copied her position and dangled her legs over the side.

"What's going on up there, I wonder?" He voiced aloud as he looked over at her, reaching a hand up to brush back the hair that had fallen across her face.

She breathed a laugh, which clouded from her lips due to the cold temperature. Petyr's smile soon faded when she looked away and refused to reply, a troubled expression crossing her face.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked, feeling her out.

"Talk about what?"

"Whatever's bothering you." He said after a beat.

She looked down at her lap, twisting her mouth in thought. "I don't know how to move forward with Harry after how he reacted at the hospital when he heard about the baby."

Petyr nodded in understanding, trying to keep the hope out of his eyes. Now was not the time to be thinking selfishly. "I know that isn't something I should really be talking to you about, but-"

"Of course you can talk to me about that, Sansa." He cut her off. Her eyes met his again. "I know it can be a little difficult at times because of how I feel about you, but all I want is your happiness." This time it was him who couldn't find the strength to hold her gaze. "I'll always be here to listen and I'll always give you my honest response."

His attention was shifted back over to her when she rested her gloved hand over his shoulder. She smiled. "Thank you, Pete."

"Of course." Petyr paused, thinking back on what she was saying before he interrupted her. "As for Harry… He made a mistake. He spoke without thinking and without taking your feelings into consideration."

"See but it's not that he spoke without thinking… it's that he truly feels that way. He was  _ relieved _ , Petyr!" She added heatedly, but the anger wasn't directed towards him.

"I know, love. And that's a hard pill to swallow. I think it's clear that Harry doesn't want kids, at least not now." Petyr said gently. "I think what you need to decide is whether or not  _ you're  _ okay with that."

Sansa considered that for a few long moments. "I guess I'll have to think about it."

"You will." Petyr agreed. "But you shouldn't have to give up something you love for someone you love. Keep that in mind too, sweetling."

"I shouldn't have to choose between Harry and a family, is what you're saying?" She asked, sighing.

"Yes. But if Harry  _ is _ your family, and you're okay with it only being the two of you for the rest of your lives, then that's alright." Petyr added.

She thought about his response for a long time. Petyr tried to analyze her; tried to read her. "How are you feeling?" He asked after long moments of silence between them.

"Physically or emotionally?" She asked with a somewhat bitter laugh.

Petyr smiled. "Both, love."

"Well," she sighed. "Having a cast is annoying but I can't really complain about it to you seeing as you have it worse." Petyr chuckled. "My neck is still very sore, and the marks are still dark which I hate. The bruises on my face are fading fast so that's good."

"And emotionally?"

"Confused, as I just explained. But also…" Her face saddened substantially and she didn't even try to hide it from his prying eyes. Her hand moved to rub her lower stomach and he instantly understood.

He lifted his arm, moving it behind her to rest on her shoulders and pull her closer. She accepted his offer and leaned against him. He hoped she found some form of safety and security in his arms. He wondered if she was thinking of Harry right now; wishing he was holding her instead.

"I never even got to know it's sex. Or name it." She said into his jacket, voice muffled. "How am I supposed to mourn and move on when I don't even know it's name?"

Petyr pulled back, keeping his arm around her as he looked her in the eyes. "Let's name it then."

She frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"

"Why not? Something gender neutral." He offered with a shrug. She considered him, biting her lip as she thought.

"Adrian." She said quietly, looking up into his eyes to catch his reaction. He smiled softly, pulling her close again.

"That's beautiful, sweetling." He left a kiss on the crown of her head. "Come here." He told her as he pushed himself away from the edge before standing and offering his hand. She stared at it for a moment before taking it and standing as she brushed the snow off of her ass.

He led her into the forest, trying to remember the path he took earlier today when he spotted those flowers poking through the snow. Eventually he found them again. There were hundreds of them growing around this one tree in particular, spreading pretty far.

They were pure white and beautiful… their heads drooping over to face the earth they sprouted from. They looked so delicate, which was ironic considering they survive through the toughest of winters. In fact they thrive in the cold temperatures. Much like his sweetling.

"They're beautiful." She breathed, standing still beside him once she noticed why he had stopped walking. "How have I never seen these before?"

Petyr bent down and plucked one from the collection, standing to his full height once again and turning to face her. "They're called snowdrops. They were my mother's favourite."

He handed it to her, the thin stem between his thumb and forefinger. She accepted it, placing it in her center of her open palm to admire. "You need to mourn. So let's mourn."

He offered his hand again and this time she held onto it the entire walk back to the cliff, barely looking up from the flower in her hand. They stood before the drop once again, this time hand in hand.

"Adrian…" Petyr's voice was gentle. He knew something should be said, and with one look at Sansa, he knew he had to be the one to do it. "You are loved and cherished. Forever in our hearts. We wish we had the chance to get to know you. To hear your voice and look into your eyes. And your memory will go on until our dying breath."

Sansa's hand tightened in his own and a tear was streaming down her cheek. Her eyes met his and in that moment he knew he did something important; she needed this and his kind words helped soothe her pain. She was grateful.

She looked back down at the flower in her hand and after a moment's thought, she bent her head down to leave a delicate kiss to it's petals. She closed her fingers around the flower, twisting her mouth in an attempt to hold back the emotions building inside of her.

"Feel it, sweetling." He encouraged gently, knowing it was the only way to move on.

She listened and her tears came spilling out, one after the other, never ending.

Soon, she pulled herself together and closed her eyes as she tossed the flower. They both watched it fall, floating through the air as it descended towards the rushing water beneath them.

Once it was out of sight, she let go of his hand and stepped back from the edge so she could pull him into a tight hug. "Thank you, Petyr." She whispered, her voice shaky.

"Always, love. Always."

* * *

Petyr was never good at fishing. He'd tried once or twice with work friends years ago but he never had much luck. Ice fishing was no different. Actually, no, it was different. It was  _ a lot _ colder.

Sansa laughed as she turned her attention to him. "I told you that you should have worn a hat. Look how red your ears are."

Petyr rolled his eyes. "Jokes on you because I can't even feel them anymore,  _ and  _ I still look good."

"Are you saying I don't look good with ear muffs?" She asked with raised eyebrows and a smile on her face. Smiles seemed to come easier to her after their makeshift funeral yesterday.

Petyr scoffed. "I've never seen a more adorable yeti." He teased back, making a laugh erupt from her chest. Gods he loved that sound.

"Well at least I'm  _ warm. _ "

"True." He shrugged, handing off the fishing rod to Jon. He didn't want to embarrass himself any further with fishing attempts.

"Even  _ I'm  _ better at that than you are and I'm the worst in the family." She joked, nudging him with her elbow as he found a seat next to her on the wooden bench the Starks had made years ago.

The only positive part about the small ice hut they were all cramped inside to fish, was that Petyr got to stand and sit very close to Sansa at all times. "It's certainly not a strong suit of mine." He agreed.

"No, you're brainy."

He chuckled. "You make me sound like a nerd."

"You are."

"Gee, Sans, thanks." He said sarcastically as she reached down between her legs for a large thermos. She laughed.

"You're welcome. Would you like some hot chocolate?" She asked as she took the cap off and started pouring some of the streaming liquid into it.

"Am I sharing with you?" He asked, smiling at Cat as she draped a thick furry blanket over their laps.

"Well, yeah. Unless you'd rather share with my brother?" She teased, taking a sip and then offering it to him.

He smirked, accepting the container and turning it so his mouth covered the place that her's had just been. He drank a mouthful, happy to feel the warmth slide down his throat and into his stomach.

"I certainly don't mind, sweetling." She looked away, but Petyr had a funny feeling it was because she was blushing. "So what's after this?" He asked, looking around at the other's huddled close by.

Ned, Jon and Robb were standing as they tried to wrangle a large fish out of the hole in the ice. Rickon and Bran were sitting on a blanket on the wooden ground with Arya and Gendry to their left. Catelyn was on the other bench, which she currently had to herself as she waited for her husband and sons to come back. Ygritte was on his right, though when Robb left Talisa's side to fish, she came to sit between him and Ygritte.

"Oh, they'll be doing this for the rest of the day, unfortunately. But you and I can go do something in a bit if you want." She offered, taking the hot chocolate back so she could drink some more herself.

"Like what?" He asked innocently, though he sent her a cheeky smirk that elicited a small eye roll from her.

"Snowmobiling? Snow shoeing? A long walk?" She suggested. Petyr chuckled.

"Ah, yes. I forgot how active you are."

She smiled. "Or we could just watch a movie and relax, old man."

He faked being offended, placing his casted hand above his heart. "Ouch!"

Talisa laughed beside them and moved closer to Petyr, her side pressed against his, the way his was pressed against Sansa's. "I'd kill for some relaxation." She lowered her voice then and glanced Robb's way. "Right now I'm wishing Robb was older and less, you know… full of energy."

Sansa laughed then. "See Pete, some women enjoy older men, so no need to worry." She teased, patting his leg.

Petyr's eyes narrowed on her and a smirk slid across his face. "Oh, I'm not worried, sweetling. I seem to remember exactly how much you used to  _ enjoy _ me."

Her face went bright red and Cat looked in their direction, clearly hearing what he had said. "So how long did you two date?" Talisa asked. Petyr turned towards her.

"Close to a year."

"Oh, really?" Her eyebrows rose in surprise. "You guys seem like a married couple. I expected longer."

"Yeah, well… She got sick of me." He joked, shrugging with one shoulder. Sansa smacked his arm.

"That's not what happened." She informed the woman to his right. No, that wasn't what happened. Petyr had fucked it up. He knew that.

"Yes!" Was shouted from the other side of the hut, catching everyone's attention. The boys hollered enthusiastically as a fish that had to be half Petyr's size, was lugged from the water, slapping its tail back and forth on the ground.

"We're eating well tonight, boys!" Ned announced, making Petyr want to roll his eyes. Such a typical statement.

"Oh good!" Sansa exclaimed, leaning towards Petyr so she could whisper in his ear. "They'll probably call it quits now so we won't have to ditch them."

Thank god. Petyr was not used to this cold and it had already been hours out on the lake. He was very thankful for the large fish… that is until Arya suggested hunting for the rest of the afternoon. Petyr, truthfully, was a good shot with a gun. But the idea of trudging through the snowy forest for hours only to shoot and kill a deer or more likely something smaller, wasn't exactly an attractive option to him. He'd already killed enough for a lifetime after Ramsay.

Sansa rested her hand on his, so his eyes found her's. "We don't have to go." She assured with a knowing smile.

"Hunting not your thing?"

"I don't like killing innocent beings, no." She replied, standing so she could help her mother clean up a bit.

Petyr wondered for the first time if the fact that he'd now killed someone, bothered her. Did she think less of him? Did she feel in danger around him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Examination: The questioning of a witness under oath or affirmation.
> 
> Some important conversations and moments happened in this chapter.
> 
> Sorry for abandoning this story for a while, guys. I spent a long time working on my other stories and then I took a break from writing for a couple weeks.
> 
> The next chapter is already started so hopefully I can get it up soon!
> 
> I made this chapter a long one to apologize!😬


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